Malfoy Files
by HeadlessHuntsman
Summary: Draco is asked to look into the theft of several items. He soon finds himself embroiled in a mystery encompassing centuries and bloodlines. Time starts to run out when people close to home are threatened. Rated M for language and some graphic violence descriptions,
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey all I have added this Author's note on the suggestion of a review. First let me set the time frame... This takes place about 23-24 years after the war ( I am horrid with numbers) Draco is in his early 40's. This helps explain his turn around on Muggles and his attitude change in general.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of what you recognize just the plot. The only thing I gain from this are the warm fuzzy feelings that reviews bring.**

The Malfoy Files Chapter 1

A killing spell blasts the rock beside me, and I am covered in gravel. I grab the lanky redhead, pulling him to the ground, beside the boulder I am behind.

"You seen Potter?" I yell, over the sounds of the fighting taking place in the valley.

The redhead's blue eyes catch mine, and he shakes his head no, before peeking back above the rocks.

"Sectumsempra! Confrigo! Bombarda!" I hear Potter's voice screaming out the spells in rapid succession, showing he is very much still in this battle.

Blood flows from my forehead, into my eyes, stinging them. I must have caught some rocks.

"Hold still, ferret," the redhead says, pointing his wand at me.

"Episkey," he says, and I feel the cut seal up.

"Whatever, weasel," I smirk back. "You seen the kids," I ask, looking around the impromptu battlefield.

"Last I saw them, the bitch was herding them into the caves back there," he answers me.

Another redhead, this one older looking, dives behind the boulder, next to us.

"You two done taking a kip? We need to keep moving," the newcomer snaps.

A shadow passes over the moon, as the newcomer looks up, his scarred face catches the moonlight.

"About bloody time he got here." The larger man curses. A primal roar bellows, from the sky and a belch of flame hits a group of opposing wizards. The lucky ones are turned to ash instantly.

"That would be Charlie's signal," Weasley says. "Let's move." He jumps up and we follow, as we make our way to the mouths of the caves.

As we take refuge behind several larger boulders, another redhead (do they ever end) drops in beside us from the night sky.

"Hans reel them in and start calming them!" The redhead in dragon leathers yells to the formless shapes in the night sky, letting go of the rope he has just slid down.

I spot Potter held up behind a large rock outcropping. I point him out to the others I am with, and start to make my way towards him.

A flash of red catches my eye as something jets by me on a broom. The flier is Ginny Potter. She stops about five feet from the outcropping, dismounting her broom and hitting the ground at full speed, all in one fluid move. She pulls up beside Potter and stands back to back with him in a defensive posture. Her face is fierce and her eyes flashing with intensity. I would hate to be on that woman's bad side.

Myself and the three other men make our way to the outcropping with little resistance. The one with the scars stares intently at the mouth of the largest cave muttering a series of spells under his breath.

We are joined by two other Weasleys These two I recognize from my time at Hogwarts.

"Most of her troops have either run or given up outright." The one who was Head Boy comments.

"Yeah you would be surprised how much Dragonfire can cause you to reevaluate your life decisions," the other newcomer, the one used to play Quidditch with Potter, jokes.

"Humph, never did for me," the one in dragon leathers remarked dryly.

"There are some pretty nasty curses at the mouth of the cave," the scarred face one says, "but I don't sense anything further in. I can break them, may take some time though."

"Get to it, Bill," Potter says taking over. "The rest of us need to set up a perimeter. Ron," he says pointing at Weasley, "you find the best defensive spots and assign the people."

"Yessir," Weasley answers, reflexively. "Charlie, will you be needed with the dragons?" He asks. The one on dragon leathers shakes his head.

"Hans has a handle on them," he answers his brother.

"Good," Weasley says, "I need you behind that boulder there," he says pointing, to a large rock 20 or so meters away. "Ginny, I need you back in the air doing sweeps," he says to his sister, who immediately summons her broom, mounts it and takes off.

"Malfoy," I start at my name. "I need you and Harry to guard Bill while he works." Potter nods and starts scanning the surrounding area. I do the same while committing the names of the others to memory.

"Percy, make your way back to base camp and let mum and dad know what's up."

'Right, on it," Percy says, as he turns and moves back, towards the south end of the valley.

"George stay with me and we're gonna do sweeps out every ten minutes," Weasley says.

"Got it," George answers.

I move away from the group and watch Bill work his curse-breaking skills.

"Ron!" I would recognize that woman's screech anywhere.

"Hermione, what are you doing her?" Weasley asks. "We agreed you would be best at base camp."

"Did you really think I would just sit by while that cow has the kids?" She asked, looking at him sternly.

"I guess not," Weasley says pulling his wife into a hug.

I lean back against a rock, and momentarily close my eyes, willing myself to relax. I think back on all that has happened in the last three months and shake my head in wonder. If you would have told me then, in three months time I would be the sole Malfoy heir, and fighting alongside Harry Potter and the whole Weasley clan. I would have checked you into St. Mungo's. But family has a strong bond, even for a Malfoy. Here is what happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Malfoy Files Chapter Two

It was a Monday and I was working in my office, in Knockturn Alley.

After the war, nobody wanted to hire a Malfoy, and my father had spent almost every Galleon he had keeping himself and, mostly by coincidence, my mother and myself out of Azkaban. As it was, my father and mother both had their wands broken. I escaped that fate, as I was underage when most of my "transgressions" occurred.

My father still had several land holdings that he managed to parlay into a very equitable marriage proposal for myself and Astoria Greengrass. I played the dutiful son married Astoria, and in due time produced a proper Malfoy heir, my son Scorpius.

Now I am not going to claim to be the best father. I mean having a stark raving sociopath for both a mother and a father didn't exactly give me the best role models growing up, but I try. The first thing I did was get rid of the whole Pure Blood supremacy bullshit. People are people albeit most of them are morons and deserve everything they get.

I am not sure of Astorias views on the matter. What I do know is, she never wanted to marry me. She did, like me, what was expected of her. She is civil enough and I think she genuinely loves Socrpius. Me however, I think she could do without. As a result, let's just say fidelity has never been a big part of our marriage.

I spend most of my time in my office. I am a private solicitor. I use my contacts with the seedier side of the world to find things my clients are missing. I also do some work with the Ministry finding escaped criminals. Most of the time my clients don't want the proper authorities knowing what they are missing or that they even had the item in the first place.

I work in both the Muggle and wizard world. My office is in Knockturn Alley. But it also has a storefront, that opens on to the same Muggle street as The Leaky Caldron does.

"Mister M, you have a client here, and your wife is on line two."

Line two was our code for a floo call and when Gertrude used the word client she meant a Muggle.

"Tell my wife I will get back to her and send in the client," I said into the spelled box designed to look like a Muggle intercom system.

A tall brunette, with movie star legs, glided effortlessly into my office. She was followed by a mountain of a man, I could only assume was her bodyguard. I stood up, feeling suddenly under dressed in my casual Muggle suit with no tie.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," she said extending her hand.

"Good morning," I replied, noticing a years pay worth of jewelry on her hand and wrist.

"What can I do for you?" I asked sitting at my desk, while pointing to my client chairs. Man mountain moved to a corner and leaned on the wall, looking neither interested nor bored.

"Straight to the point. I like that," the brunette said, producing a cigarette. "Do you mind?" She asked.

"They're your lungs," I said.

She smirked and lit the cigarette. She was good. She had nothing on the Malfoy smirk, but very few people do.

"I heard from my associates, that you are one of the best when it comes to discrete investigations," she said taking a drag from her smoke.

"You heard wrong," I stated, matter of factly. She cocked her eyebrow inquisitively. "I am THE best. What do you need?" Humility has never been my strong suit.

"Let me introduce myself first. I am Treigthe Saterbourne," she said, "perhaps, you have heard of my family?"

I nodded my head. Anyone who had semi-respectable dealings, anywhere in London, had heard of the Saterbournes. They were old money procured through illegal means, mostly gambling and prostitution. Then, about twenty years ago, they began to clean their money through politics and charitable organizations.

"My family estate was recently robbed and several valuable artifacts were stolen," she said exhaling smoke.

"Why me," I asked. "Why not Old Bill? You're on much better terms now, from what I read."

"You cannot believe everything you read," she said. "There are still several factions within The Met, that still feel my family is not to be trusted."

"Shocking," I deadpanned.

Her eyes flared with momentary anger. "You, Draco Malfoy, should know the difficulties of living down the actions of a father.

I was shocked, but managed to keep it from showing.

"Yes I know of your past," she said nonchalantly, "and I also know of your other, less mundane, life. About a hundred years ago my family and some less desirable elements, from your world made a deal and found common ground in the great unifier, crime."

"Ok, so what was stolen?" I asked, interested.

"Does that mean you'll take the case?" She asked.

"Depends on what was stolen," I shook my head. "I don't do anything blind."

"It's a twelfth century text reputed to be the ramblings of an insane monk," she said. "A ceremonial dagger, dating from the same era, was taken as well."

"What the hell is the East London mob doing with monastic writings and ceremonial weaponry?" I asked.

"Let's just say my father's tastes, in collections, ran to the eclectic shall we," she said, with a small grin. I couldn't tell if she was actually pleased or plotting the easiest way to rip out my heart.

"So I assume that you're approaching me due to the fact that you don't want any authorities knowing what's going on," I stated, with a matter of fact tone.

"Your grasp of the obvious is encouraging," she said sarcastically. "What I think you should do is question my staff first," she continued, as if reading from a list. "Then you should check and see if anyone has tried to fence the items."She looked at me questioningly. "Aren't you going to write this down?" She asked.

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered, looking at my fingernails.

"Why not?" She asked.

"Look, Ms. Saterbourne, you're here to hire me. This means that you have asked around and liked what you've heard," I said. "So I am going to do this my way."

"What's your first move?" she asked.

I shook my head. "It doesn't work that way. I will give you periodic updates, but I will not give you an itinerary, understood?" She nodded in the affirmative. "Good, the fee is three hundred pounds a day plus expenses, with a one thousand pound retainer."

"Here is everything you need," She said, handing me a folder and a computer flash drive. "The flash drive has all the same information that's in the folder. I didn't know if you had access to a computer."

I nodded my understanding and stood up. Man mountain moved to open the door for Ms. Saterbourne, as she left my office.

Ms. Saterbourne paid my secretary the retainer and left my office. I first thing I needed to do was talk to my contacts and see if anyone was selling the items, then I should check and see who had the skills to steal the items. Should be pretty straight forward I thought. I was wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy File Chapter 3

I started this investigation the same place I started most of my other investigations, a bar. This wasn't just any bar, this was my favorite bar. The placed was called "Firepit", and was owned by a former schoolmate of mine named Blaise Zabini. When he bought it, the bar was in a very shady section of wizarding London. It was the type of place where you could meet with your "business a associates" no one eavesdropped, or asked unnecessary questions. Then about five years ago some developer got it into his head to buy up all the land around The Firepit and Blaise found himself in the middle of a magical urban renewal project, so he did what all good Slytherins do, he adapted. He expanded into the shop next to him, added a dance floor and a stage, offered a full menu and found himself the owner and manager of the hottest magical club going. He did keep a back room for his loyal clients who just wanted to drink and be left alone. I think he did it so he could have a place to escape to, more than anything else.

"Hey "D","the large doorman said.  
>"Hello Willy. Is he back there?" I ask, opening the door for myself.<p>

He shook his head. "Nah, he's over on the dance floor auditioning bands for the weekends."

I stepped into the bar and was assaulted by a sound I can only describe as a kneazel attempting to mate with a Muggle blender whilst being attacked by a Dementor.

"Holy mother of Merlin! What the bloody hell was that?" I heard Blaise scream over the "music".

"How, in the sodding hell, is anyone supposed to dance to that?"

I heard him continue his tirade as I headed to the tap-room in the back of the bar.

"Afternoon Mr. Malfoy. The usual?" I nodded yes to Ellie the bartender. It was early still and I was the only one there. I moved to a back booth where I could spread out and keep an eye on the room. I opened the file given to be and began reading.

"Here ya go," Ellie said, setting down a double firewhiskey and a butterbeer.

"Thanks, Ellie," I said, not looking up from the file.

The manuscript and dagger were first noticed missing two weeks prior. In that time the Saterbourne family has searched it's own resources and contacts. They had ruled out any of their immediate staff. I would still check myself.

The folder had several Muggle photos, of the items that were missing. The book was leather bound with a large cross, on the front, tooled in silver and gold. It screamed "ancient." If I hadn't known better I would have sworn it was magical.

The dagger didn't look like a typical ceremonial weapon. It looked more like a weapon that was used in ceremonies, if you know the difference.

"Can you believe them?" Blaise asked, storming into the tap-room.

Ellie handed him a glass and he slid into the seat across from me, still fuming.

"It's your own fault you know," I smirked, putting the photos away. "Becoming a respectable businessman and all."

"Don't remind me, Draco," he said taking a drink, "don't remind me. So what brings you into my fine establishment this afternoon?"

"What? Can't a guy just come in for a drink with his friend?" I asked, sounding offended.

"We aren't friends by choice," he said. "Nobody else would put up with our smug asses," he said smiling. "To smug asses," he said, raising his glass.

Just as he said that I heard a shriek come from the front of the bar.

"Where is that bastard?" Came a female's voice I would recognize anywhere.

"And the women who love them," I finished Blaise's toast, smirking.

Blaise looked like he was going to be ill.

"I figured you would be back here," Pansy Parkinson screamed, entering the back room.

Blaise looked like he seriously regretted the anti-apparition spell he had put on the bar, to keep people from skipping out on their tabs.

"What do you need, Pansy?" Blasie asked, through his teeth.

"Oh, hello Draco," Pansy almost purred at me, totally changing her demeanor.

I gave her the patented aloof head nod and eyebrow raise, being careful not to show any interest at all.

"Pansy! What do you need?" Blaise asked again.

"I need you to go to Hogwarts, it's about Damien," Pansy said, looking back to Blaise.

"What's the little shite done this time?" Blaise asked, pinching his nose between his eyes.

"I don't know! Headmaster Longbottom sent me an owl saying a parent needed to be present this afternoon at 4 o'clock. It's something to do with discipline," Pansy said, putting her hands on her hips. "I have a date this evening and being that he's your spawn, you need to go," steeling herself for him to say no.

"Sure, I'll go," Blaise said plainly.

"You will? No fights? No threats?" Pansy said, looking as if someone had invalidated her entire existence.

"Why not? It's Monday, we're slow, and you'll owe me," he said coldly. "Now, order something or leave." He turned his back to her.

Pansy left, still shocked and dazed.

"Hey, mind if I tag along?" I asked. "I need to talk to professor Martine about this case I am working."

Professor Martine is the Muggle Studies instructor at Hogwarts. He's also a "reformed" art thief. I am one of a very few people who know the later. Emile Martine owed me because I helped clear him of a murder a few years prior. I managed to do it quickly and quietly without his past being investigated or discovered. I thought it couldn't hurt to get his thoughts on the theft and collect, at least in part, on the debt he owed me.

"Fine with me," Blaise said. "You gonna see your kid while you're there?" He asked.

Shaking my head I responded. "Don't see the point. He's trying to distance himself from all the crap the name "Malfoy" brings. Can't say I blame him either," I said.

Blaise conjured a quill and parchment. "Better let Longbottom know I am the one coming," he said. "I still can't believe they made him headmaster," he said, scribbling out his note. "Never would have thought it in school," he said, as he whistled for a coal black owl with yellow eyes. "The war sure changed him," he remarked, tying the note to the owl's leg.

"Yeah," I responded, draining the last of my firewhiskey. "Wars will do that."


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a while so it's time to remind you, I am not JKR and own none of what you recognize.**

**Chapter Four**

We arrived in Longbottom's office, via floo, shortly before Four o'clock. Brushing the soot off my clothes, I looked around the office. Blaise stumbled in behind me. I heard voices coming from a room off to one side.

"I think they're in there," I said, pointing the room out to Blaise. The door opened and Longbottom entered the room.

"Mr. Zabini, thank you for your owl. We will be starting in a moment." He looked at me.

"Thank you for coming Mr. Malfoy. I was not aware you would be coming," he said, retrieving a small stack of papers from his desk. "Your wife said she had been unable to reach you."

"You have me at a loss," I said, confused. "I just came along to speak with Professor Martine."

"When I sent the owl, I asked for both you and your wife to be present," Longbottom said, motioning for us to join the others in the room.

"Ah, I got busy with a client and was unable to get back with her when she called," I explained to Longbottom.

"Well I am glad you could make it," he said, following Blaise and myself into the room.

I walked into the side room which was set up like a sitting room. On one side sat Damien Zabini. He was tall, thin and dark skinned like his father. His facial features were more pug-like, resembling his mother. Blaise went to join him. On the other side of the room sat Scorpius and Astoria. I took a seat a few chairs away from them, but on the same side of the room.

"I called you here to settle an ongoing issue," Longbottom started. "Damien and Scorpius have been at each others throats all term. This is unusual, as they are both Slytherin and until this term, while they had not been friends, by all accounts they had been civil," Longbottom said, looking through the papers he had retrieved from his desk. "The latest incident has caused considerable damage to the Slytherin common room, as well as leading to the hospitalization of several of their housemates. Neither Mr. Malfoy nor Mr. Zabini will comment as to the cause of this rift," Longbottom continued. "I have been in touch with the governors of the school and it has been decided, with your permission, to administer Veritaserum to both young masters Malfoy and Zabini in order to get to the bottom of all this."

Damien looked like he wanted to bolt, while Scorpius looked like he had grown even more pale than he already was.

Blaise spoke first. "It doesn't really matter to me much. Though, I suppose no permanent damage would probably be best," he said disdainfully. Damien scowled, but knew better than to object.

I looked to Astoria, to see if I could discern her thoughts on the matter. I have always tried to defer to her when it comes to the day to day raising of Scorpius. I have to say she has done a good job.

"Veritaserum should have no lasting ill effects," I said. "The questions will be only concerning his feud with Damien?" I asked.

"You have my word," Longbottom replied.

"Alright then, let's get this started," I said.

The door opened and a tall woman with mousy blonde hair, blue eyes and very fine multicolored robes entered.

"You sent for me, Headmaster?" the woman asked.

"Ah Professor Clearwater. Did you prepare the potions I requested earlier?" Longbottom asked.

"Yes, here they are," she answered, handing over two small vials of clear liquid, before sweeping from the room.

Longbottom handed one vial to Scorpius and the other to Damien.

"Now, both of you drink and we will get started," Longbottom said, taking his seat.

Both Scorpius and Damien downed their potion and sat back in their chairs.

"Damien, I believe we will start with you," Longbottom said. "What is the issue why do you suddenly dislike Scorpius so much?"

Damien fought the potion, for a moment, before giving in. "Because he is a traitor who has chosen his Half-blood slut over his own House and his friends," he spat out.

Scorpius tried to jump from his chair but acted as if he was being held by and unseen hand. "That's not true!" Scorpius said, between gritted teeth. "You were the ones who froze me out, when you figured it out. I tried to stay friends but you wanted no part of it."

I looked at Astoria and she seemed as lost as me.

"Wait a second," I asked, "Scorpius, are you telling me that you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, I do," he answered, looking down.

"Tell him, Scorpius," Damien sneered. " Go ahead tell dear old, former Death Eater, dad who his son is in love with. This should be fun."

Scorpius had no choice but to answer. "Rose Weasley," he said.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Astoria looked like she was somewhere between shock and rage. Blaise sat back, looking amused with the whole situation. He had just been supplied with a year's worth of information, that he was going to use to take the piss out of me.

Everyone started talking at once. Longbottom raised his voice, restoring order in the process.

"Damien, are you telling me the sole reason you have a problem with Scorpius' relationship," Longbottom said, "is Ms. Weasley's blood status?"

Damien again tried to fight the potion to no avail. "Yes," he said, "isn't that enough?"

Damien looked down at the floor, knowing he was doomed.

"You know the school policy, don't you?" Longbottom asked, addressing Damien. Actually we all did. It was huge news after the war. Due to several statutes that had been passed, discrimination and discriminatory speech were no longer allowed on Hogwarts grounds nor on Ministry property. The law was passed during a reactionary swing in public opinion. Repeated documented offenses could lead to being sacked at the Ministry or expulsion from Hogwarts. I gathered, from his body language, that this wasn't Damien's first run in with this rule.

"So all this mess is simply because you don't like his girlfriend?" Blaise asked, speaking for the first time.

"Yes," Damien answered, looking at the floor.

"I know I taught you better than this," Blaise said. "Never let a woman have so much power over you, as to make you lose control of your actions."

"Now Scopius," Longbottom said, looking at him, "you know that fighting, no matter the cause, must be punished. I believe you will not be allowed on Hogsmeade trips this term. Also, you will be serving detention the next three weekends. Let this serve and a final warning, further fighting will not be tolerated, and could lead to suspension from the Slytherin Quiddith team. Am I clear?"

"That's it," Astoria protested. "Shouldn't he be punished for deserting his housemates?" she asked.

"I don't believe Scorpius has deserted anyone," Longbottom answered, coldly.

"But..." she started to complain further.

"Tori, just stop," I spoke up. "Scorpius will be punished for what he has done that was wrong. Regardless of how we feel about his choice of girlfriend, it is just that, his choice and it's not our decision to make." Everyone in the room looked at me as if I had grown a second head and was now yodeling the latest Weird Sisters' single. "I know what it's like not to have any choice, Astoria," I said. "And so do you."

Longbottom turned to Damien. "This is your third documented violation of the anti-prejudice rules here at Hogwarts. Normally this would lead to expulsion. You, however seem to have some benefactors on the Board of Governors. They did make it clear that this was to be your last chance," Longbottom paused for a moment. "In addition to the normal punishments, which are no Hogsmeade and detentions, you will be enrolled immediately in Muggle Studies. Your continued education here is dependent on you receiving a passing grade. Do you understand the conditions of your continued education?" he asked Damien.

"Yes," Damien answered quietly.

"Good, now with that settled, I think young Masters Malfoy and Zabini should return to their studies," Longbottom said, standing up signaling the meeting was over.

We all stood and walked into the outer office. Scorpius and Damien left through the main door and Blaise left via floo. Astoria stayed behind and asked to speak with me for a moment.

"This relationship of Scorpius' is not acceptable," she said in hushed but angry tones. "You know his future is planned," she hissed at me, stepping into the fireplace.

"No I don't know that. You and my mother set that up," I snapped back. I softened my voice, "think about it, Tori. Can you honestly say that our arrangement has made you happy?" I asked.

"Happiness is overrated," she answered, taking a handful of powder.

"Just consider what I said, alright? He should be able to do what makes him happy and, more to the point, with whoever makes him happy."

Astoria looked at me, with a look I did not recognize. She nodded then disappeared in a green flash.

I stayed in the main office, waiting on Longbottom who had gone into another side room.

I looked around the office. Behind the large desk sat a portrait of Dumbledore. To the right of him was a portrait of McGonagall. It was the portrait to the left of him that surprised. There, resting with his eyes closed, was Severus Snape.

I heard Longbottom move behind me.

"I didn't know he had a portrait here," I commented.

"We don't advertise it," Longbottom explained. "There are still many people who have neither forgiven nor forgotten."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, almost inaudibly.

"Was there something you needed Mr. Malfoy?" Longbottom asked bringing my attention back to the conversation.

"Yes, I need to speak to Professor Martine, and I also wanted to avail myself of the alumni section of the library if I could," I said.

Longbottom looked shocked at the second part of the request. "Shouldn't be a problem, though I think other than Hermione Weasley, you are the only alumnus to take advantage of the library."

He scribbled something on a piece of parchment then stamped it with an official looking seal.

"This should get you everything you need," he said, handing me the note.

Now if only it had been, just that easy.


	5. Chapter 5

**It's been awhile since a disclaimer: I own none of this and am making diddly off of it. The only thing I get is a warm fuzzy feeling when someone reviews it. (hint-hint)**

**Malfoy Files Chapter 5**

Professor Martine was in his office, that was connected to his classroom. Emile Martine was a short man of slight build. He appeared to be of advanced age, however being a wizard meant one could never tell. While Emile Martine was the current Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, those with the right connections also knew that Emile used to be one of the most prolific and successful art thieves in the world. He was known to both Muggle and Wizard authorities as The Specter. He was the subject of a continent wide investigation covering both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. The authorities could never prove anything. Emile had been retired for several years when our paths crossed. He stood accused of the murder of a young man presumed to be his protege. While Emile admitted a relationship with the young man, he denied any involvement in the man's death. I proved Emile innocent but only by exposing the young man's affair with a prominent member of the Wizengamot. This revelation led to the true killer, the politician's wife. Needless to say Emile owed me.

"Draco, my dear boy. What brings you here today?" Emile greeted me at the door of his office with a snifter in his hand. He was wearing a maroon and gold smoking jacket. His silver hair was was pulled back in ponytail.

"I need some information," I said getting right to the point.

"Well I don't know what knowledge a simple man like myself could impart to such a worldly figure as yourself," he said, pointing to a high backed chair. "Come in though. Would you like some tea or perhaps something stronger?" he asked, taking a seat behind his desk.

"No thanks. I'm not here socially. I need to tap your knowledge and resources," I said, taking the seat across from him.

"It's been a long time since I was involved in that world," he said, pouring himself a shot from a brown jug. "I am truly retired."

"Emile, I am aware of that. You do, however, still have your network of contacts," I said. "I am doing a job for the Saterbournes." Emile looked surprised at the name of my clients. "It has to do with the theft of several items; most likely Muggle. So I thought that you might be able to help," I said, hopefully.

"Well I always did like a good mystery or puzzle," he said, pouring another drink. "Are you sure I can't interest you?" he asked holding up the jug.

"What is it this time," I asked. Emile had a taste for exotic liqueurs.

"I believe it is called Kua Pia. It is made from fermented rice and bananas. It's quite strong and tasty," he said, taking a sip.

"Uhm no thanks," I said. "What can you tell me about these?" I asked, sliding him the folder with my information. I waited patiently, while Emile read the info and studied the photos.

"So both items were stolen at the same time?" I nodded yes. "Well first of all the dagger is most definitely not Muggle," Emile said his eyes now alive with thought. "It is most likely Goblin-made. Is there any other information on the dagger?"

"No."

Emile looked concerned.

"Why? What's the matter?" I asked.

"Well all Goblin-made items are marked both magically and physically," he explained. "Goblins want to be able to track all their items. It's kind of like Lojack for their items." I looked confused at this.

"Sorry, Lojack is a Muggle device that they use to track their cars and electronic devices if they ever get stolen."

"So what you're saying is, the Goblins would be able to track this?" I asked.

"That's the point isn't it? If they could track it they would have recovered it. This appears to have been made without the physical markings. Of course, with these only being photos I cannot tell if it has the magical markings. It is safe to assume it does not."

"Great, how does that help?" I asked.

"Did you know it before?" he asked.

"Well, no," I admitted.

"Then it helped," he said. "There are several possibilities for this. One, the dagger could have been made before the Goblin-Wizard wars, when the Goblins started marking their items. Two, the dagger could have been altered after being made. This is highly unlikely, as it's only been successfully accomplished once, Godric Gryffindor's sword," he said ticking off the the possibilities on his fingers. "Three, there could be a rogue Goblin or tribe making unmarked items. This is unlikely as well, because any rogues would be dealt with rather severely."

"So that leaves us with the most likely scenario being that, it's a really old dagger," I said. "What can you tell me about the book?"

"It appears, from the pictures and descriptions, to be entirely Muggle. What if anything is known about the author?" he asked, pouring yet another drink.

"Just an insane twelfth century monk," I answered.

"That period of time is very interesting," Emile said, as if starting a lecture. "That is the era of time that several Muggle monasteries had become interested on magic and it's origins."

"Magic using monks?" I asked, incredulously. "Did they succeed?"

"Beyond some rudimentary rituals and even fewer potions, no."

"Now that your respectable questions are out of the way..." Emile said with a slight smile.

"Yes, about those," I started. "Who would be the fence most likely contacted? And the Saterbourne estate is not the easiest of places to rob. A short list of people able to pull it off would be nice," I said pushing my luck.

As far as fences go there is only one who deals in items that old." I winced because I could guess the name.

"Bryce?" I asked, hoping I was wrong.

"Yes, Bryce. She's not still a problem for you is she?"

"Why would she be a problem?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"If memory serves, the last time you two parted ways didn't she threaten to hex your bullocks into your eye sockets, if she ever saw you again?" Emile asked, delighting in my discomfort.

"I am sure she has forgotten about all that, besides I think she was exaggerating. I don't even think that's possible."

"I am sure she would like to find out together," Emile quipped.

"Okay, what about thieves?" I asked, changing the subject.

"It couldn't have been easy," he said, shaking his head. "The Saterbournes would have state of the art Muggle systems along with the maximum magic that would still allow the electronics to work. It would require someone of unique skill to move with such east between both worlds."

"Like you?"

"Allegedly!" Emile protested.

"Allegedly then, any ideas who could have done it?"

"There are a few, but my Galleon would be on Petra," he said.

"Got a last name?"

He shook his head, "I doubt Petra is even her real first name."

"Can you reach out and let Petra know, want to talk to her?" I asked.

"For you dear boy, I can certainly try. I cannot however, guarantee she will wish to speak with you," he said swirling his drink in his hand.

"Fine, tell her how and where to reach me," I said standing up to leave. "Oh, and Emile?"

"Yes?" he asked looking up from the folder I left with him.

"This still doesn't make us even," I smirked, closing the door to his office.


	6. Chapter 6

**Malfoy Files Chapter Six**

**A/N: I own none of what you recognize and (checking bank account) I am making no money from this.**

I made my way to the library, passing several students and a few professors. I tried not to think about my days at the school as a student. I have precious few pleasant childhood memories, and none of them revolve around Hogwarts. Even though it had been over twenty-five years I still got a few glares and whispers as I walked along. I am used to it and accept my past. I know I was a horrid little shit in school. If the same situations arouse today I hope my actions would be different. Let's face it are any of the person we were when we were sixteen. I know I'm not and I hope that others have changed as well.

I reached the library and showed the librarian the parchment from Headmaster Longbottom. She showed me where the the alumni reading room was, and asked if I needed any help finding anything in particular. I said no thank you and was left alone. The first thing I did was familiarize my self with twelfth century monastic orders. The library didn't have much and I didn't learn anything new. Next I decided to look up what information they had on goblin items and their history. This was a little more useful and a lot more interesting. I had lost track of time when a you girl, she looked to be a fourth or fifth year, told me the library was closing. I looked at my watch and was surprised to see the time. The girl told me to just leave the books and she would put them away. I thanked her and left the room.

It was still relatively early and I definitely did not want to go home. I decided to walk to the Hogshead and grab a drink. Maybe I could find out something about the theft as well. I left the library, walking past Filch's ghost, as he was talking with Madam Pince's ghost. It has always amazed me as to why someone would become a ghost. This world is not so great that I intend to spend eternity here.

As I walked out of the castle gates, I heard two people talking as they came across the bridge. I recognized one of the voices as my son and wondered what he was doing out of the castle after hours. I quickly cast a disillusionment charm and stepped to one side of the bridge.

"Scorp, would you just slow down. You're gonna get us in trouble... Again," a dark haired boy my son's age said. This boy was obviously a Potter. If it weren't for the lack of a scar he would be Harry Potter's double.

"Al, would you just calm down. I swear you're a paranoid old lady sometimes," my son answered.

"Let's at least check the map," Albus said. Scorpius sighed impatiently. "I know you're in a hurry to get to your snog session with my cousin, but if we go barging into the castle at this hour, we might as well hang a sign around our necks says 'Stop us and ask us where we've been'."

"Fine check your map," Scorpius said.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I heard Albus say pointing his wand a piece of parchment.

Scorpius look over his shoulder, with his want lit up.

"Let's see," Scorpius said, looking at the parchment. "Here we are and the only person near us is... OH! FUCK!"

"What?" asked Albus, looking at the "map" as well. "Oh," he said knowingly.

"Uhm...Dad?" Scorpius asked nervously

I moved a few feet in front of the two. It was amazing how, in the moonlight, these two looked so much like their fathers.

I dropped the charm and immediately growled at my son. "What, the bloody hell, is the matter with you?" I snapped holding my son's eyes. "You are not even one day removed from a meeting that required my presence. Do you want to be expelled?" Scorpius looked afraid, as I could still command the Malfoy presence when I wanted to.

"Dad, it's not that big of a deal. I just wanted to get away from those idiots for a while and Al went with me," Scorpius tried explaining.

"Albus," I said looking at the other boy. "It is Albus isn't it?" He nodded in response turning almost as pale as Scorpius. "Could you please give me a moment with my son?" Albus moved off towards the entrance of the castle.

I leaned against the guardrail and looked out at the ravine the bridge spans.

"Look Scorpius, I want all the best for you, and I know it's not easy being my son. You are better than this. Fighting blatantly disregarding the rules?" I looked at him.

"But you disregard rules and laws all the time," he protested.

"You're right I do, and my answer is the same; you're better than me, your mother or your grandparents. You have a chance here. A chance I was never given," I explained. "Do you know what that chance is?"

He looked at me hopelessly and shook his head. "No, not really."

"Well.." I sighed, "just think on it. You're a smart boy and you have some very clever friends. I am sure you can figure it out. You should go in, and try and stay out of sight okay?" Scorpius nodded. He hesitated for a few seconds then stepped forward and hugged me.

"See you later Dad," he said.

"I hope not until the holidays," I smirked returning the hug.

As he ran back to the castle I stood for a moment longer and looked into the dark valley. I hoped that he would soon understand what it was I was trying to get him to understand.

I turned and headed off towards Hogsmeade, lost in my own thoughts and memories.


	7. Chapter 7

**Malfoy Files Chapter 7**

**A/N: In this chapter I will introduce the Potter Initiatives... These are a series of changes made to the DMLE when Harry became Head Auror. Many of the changes include modeling the Wizarding police force to closely resemble it's Muggle counterpart. I own none of this and am getting no benefit (except the warm fuzzies I get from reviews)**

I made my way down the dark street to the Hogshead. This bar was one of those rare places where no one asked your name and even fewer people cared. Aberforth Dumbledore still ran the bar despite his advanced age. He always joked it was due to the amazing restorative properties of goats.

I entered the smokey tap room, my eyes adjusting to the firelight. As it was Monday night, the room was mostly empty containing only a few regulars.

"Hey Ab," I said walking to the bar. "Give me a double Fire Whiskey and hold the water."

"You wound me with your baseless accusations," Ab snapped, sliding me a drink.

"I am sure your stellar reputation as a fine upstanding member of the community can withstand it," I said paying for my drink.

I was nursing my second drink, and debating with myself whether to go back to my office and go over the files, go home or just rent a room and get thoroughly polluted.

I was still trying to decide what to do when the doors opened and two young men in dark blue robes entered the bar. They were Aurors and not very experienced ones judging by the looks of them. One of them had sandy brown hair while his partner was bald.

"What the devil do you want?" Aberforth growled, moving his hand beneath the bar. Several of the patrons moved out of the line of fire.

"Take it easy gramps," sandy haired sneered. "We don't wanna have to run you in."

"Yeah," his partner said. "We're on official business so bugger off."

"Smith, Winslow," snarled a gravelly voice from behind the two Aurors, "what the blood hell is wrong with you? I told you to wait for me before coming in." The owner of the voice was a very stocky gray haired wizard. He wore an eye patch that covered a scar that ran from his left temple under the patch across his nose and ending on his right cheek. He had an elaborate brace on his right leg that squeaked when he walked, and caused him to limp.

"Sorry sir," The bald one started to explain. "We thought we should secure the area."

"Did I tell you to secure the inside? No! You two are about as worthless as tits on a bull." The older Auror moved between Aberforth and the others. "Now you Tweedledum take Tweedledumer there and got outside. One of you watch left the other watch right," he continued to growl. "Ya think you two mental midgets can handle that?"

"Yes sir!" both men barked and quickly left the bar.

"Sorry, Ab. Trainees," the man explained jerking his thumb towards the door. "They're full of piss and vinegar, but they don't have the sense of one of your goats."

"Don't you be insultin my Goats, Boot, or you can just, bloody well leave," Aberforth growled,but he did remove his hand from beneath the bar.

"Relax Ab, I really am here on official business," the man said looking at me a moving towards my chair.

Crap I knew that look and it never bode well for me.

"Draco Malfoy?" he asked.

"You know I am. What can I do for you?" I asked, draining the last of my drink.

"I am Auror First Class Terry Boot. We need you to come down to headquarters and help us identify someone."

"As in a dead someone," I asked, "or a live one?"

"There is no easy way to say this so I am just gonna come out and say it. The Auror department recover a body from a river this afternoon. It appears to be your father."

"Are you sure?" I asked, shaking my head to clear the whiskey fog.

"As sure as we can be, which is why we need you to come down make an identification and answer a few questions," Boot said.

"Uhm, yeah Okay, I can come down," I say still in shock. "Hey, Ab can I use your floo?" I wasn't going to apparate in my current condition. Aberforth grunted and jerked his head towards the fireplace.

"Just a moment," Boot said. "I'll go with you."

He walked to the front door. "Smith, Winslow, you two head back to headquarters. I'll meet ya there."

We both walked to the fireplace. Boot went first to show me what to say.

"Auror Headquarters Receiving," Boot called out throwing down a handful powder and disappearing in a plume of green flame I followed him saying the same thing.

I arrived stepping from the fireplace into a crowded receiving room. Even thought it was a Monday night the room was busy with people who looked accustomed to bring there. I recognized a few hookers and pushers from Knockturn Alley.

"Hey Charlie," Boot said to the busy Auror manning the reception desk. The man nodded, not stopping his conversation with the elderly witch in front of him.

"Look lady I don't care what moon of which planet is in what house, if yer gonna go outside ya gotta wear clothes," the man said.

"I am going up to investigations," Boot explained to the desk Auror. "Toss me a visitors badge, would ya?"

Charlie reached in a drawer and tossed Boot a badge.

"Here, put this on and follow me," Boot said to me.

I clipped the badge to my shirt and followed Boot through the crowded room and into a lift.

"No ma'am I don't wanna read yer warts," I heard Charlie yelling as the doors slid shut.

After a few seconds the lift doors opened into a well lit, very spacious room. There were multiple desks in the room, paired up so they were facing one another. This was my first visit to the new DMLE headquarters. It used to be housed in the same building as all the other departments. It had been one of the many Potter Initiatives, a series of proposals and changes instituted by Harry Potter upon being names Head Auror. The DMLE was moved to a separate building to give at least a semblance of impartiality.

As we moved around the outside of the room, I read some of the names on the office doors. Harry Potter H.A. Ronald Weasley D.H.A. Hermione Weasley D.S. I was amazed at how many of my school mates were either in law enforcement or, like Blaise and myself, spent a good deal of time avoiding it.

We made our way to a small waiting area with a few couches and chairs.

"If you could please wait here. Auror Phillips will be with you in a few minutes," Boot said to me, turning his back and heading into his office.

"Smith! Winslow!," he bellowed. "Get your sorry arses into my office... NOW!"

I took a seat and waited. Boot was yelling so loudly that the closed door to his office shook. I could only make out bits and pieces of what he was saying, but tit made me glad I was not an Auror Trainee.

"You're damn lucky he didn't hex your bullocks off," he yelled while opening his office door. "I want a full action report from each of you before you leave tonight." The two trainees scurried from his office with red faces.

"Mr. Malfoy? I am Auror Second Class Alec Phillips," a middle aged man with black horn-rimmed glasses and a receding hairline introduced himself extending his hand. I shook his hand.

"Are you up to making an identification now?" he asked showing trained symapthy.

"Might as well get it over with," I answered.

We reentered the lift, Phillips said "Medical Examinations," and the lift took off.

After a few seconds of strained silence, the doors opened and he led me through a series of desks and offices, to a large gray metal, swinging door.

"Let me warn you, sir," Phillips said to me, "he is not a pretty sight."

"Okay," I didn't know what else to say.

We entered a small well lit room. Behind a large glass wall stood a man in white robes with a surgical mask. Next to the man was a metal table with a white sheet, obviously covering a body.

Phillips nodded to the man and he lifted the sheet. There laid out on the table was my father. I could tell it was him as he still had his long silver hair, pointed chin and hawk-like nose. What he did not have was his eyes. Where they should have been were two large jagged wounds. I nodded numbly to Auror Phillips, positively identifying my father's body. I always knew this could happen given his history and beliefs. The thing that concerned me the most was all I felt was shock and maybe even a little bit of relief.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey all a few things I wanna thank all those who are following and reviewing this. I promise this will soon start all coming together and making some sense. A few things to clear up some questions. Draco is about 42 years old. He has been working with Muggles and in the Muggle world for over 10 years. I especially wanted to point out this is not a sudden change in him. I will be exploring this change and what led to it in other stories.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this except the story.**

**Malfoy Files Chapter 8**

I sat in a small windowless room. I was sitting one of the three wooden chairs situated around a square table. Across from me in the other two chairs sat Auror Phillips and an old "friend" of mine Ron Weasley. There is no love lost between myself and Weasley. I readily admit I was a horrid little shit in school; and many of the times the focus of my derision was Weasley and his family. Where as Weasley's boss, Harry Potter, and myself have come to mutual understanding; Weasley and I had never had the opportunity nor the desire to become even a little friendly.

"Cut the shit Malfoy, we all know you hated your father enough to do this," Weasley said, slamming his fist on the table. Weasley was intimidating, I'll give him that. He had certainly grown into his 6'3" . frame. I guess Auror training paid off for him.

"Maybe you didn't mean to kill him," Phillips jumped in; playing the "good cop" role. "You know, you fight and you just lose it. If that's what happened we can help you with the Wizengamot."

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Look I'll tell you again, and this time I'll say it real slow so Weasley here can understand," I said, jerking my head towards Weasley. "I had nothing to do with this. Aside from holidays, I have not talked to my father in close to a year. Besides, you should be checking with the Muggle authorities."

"Oh really," Phillips said. "Why is that?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Think about it, why would a wizard kill him in that way?" I said. "We have much more effective ways of dispatching someone. We would use a spell, right? There's no spell I know of that would do that to a man's eyes."

"We are looking into all angles," Weasley said dismissively. "Including the possibility he was killed by the remnants of the Pure Blood Supremacy movement. What can you tell us about that?"

"Again, I don't know anything more about them than you already do. I haven't been involved with those people or been around that scene since the war," I snapped letting my frustration show. "Besides, that group is so fractured and disjointed that they couldn't organize an orgy in a whorehouse," I smirked. "Now, am I in custody?"

"No but stay where we can get a hold of you if needed," Weasley answered me, standing up.

"I am always available to help our civil servants," I said sarcastically.

"Get the hell outta here," Weasley growled, as he walked out the door, "Before I lock you up for being a general pain in my ass."

"You know," Phillips said, gathering his papers, "he could make your life hell and pull your license. So you may wanna can the attitude, and help us with the investigation."

"I didn't think your boss wanted me involved? In fact, didn't he just tell me to bugger off?"

"He's not here right now, is he?" Phillips said opening the door to the room. "Besides, it's my case to run as I see fit. I happen to think you're an asset I cannot afford to ignore." He waited for me to get up. "I want you to use your contacts to see if anyone had it out for your father."

"Are you kidding me? I couldn't begin to list all of his enemies," I said walking through the door, "the Pureblood Supremacists hated him because he got off and turned on them. The other side hated him cause he was a Death Eater. And those that don't care about politics hated him on general principle. He was kind of a prick, ya know." I paused. "Look I will keep my eyes and ears open. If I find anything out I will let you know."

"Alright, you're free to go," he said and escorted back to the visitor's lift.

-ooo-

After stopping at a Muggle store for coffee and scones, I went back to my office. I cleaned up in the bathroom a decided I would stay the night there. I looked at my watch is was already 4 AM. I sat at my desk and looked through the post Gertrude had left on my desk. I eyes blurred with fatigue and I couldn't concentrate. I took of my clothes and conjured a camp bed. I was asleep in minutes.

I awoke four hours later to the smell of tea and bacon. I looked at my watch and realized that Gertrude must be in already. I washed up in the bathroom and put on the spare clothes I keep for these occasions.

I opened the door to my office to find Gertrude reading a magazine.

"Mornin Mr. M," she said not looking up from the magazine. "I have fresh tea in the pot and bacon sandwiches."

"Merlin, you're a life saver Gertie," I said, pouring myself a cup of tea. "What would I do without you.?"

"Probably starve and have caffeine headaches."

"You're probably right," I said, putting one sandwich in my mouth to hold it while carrying another and my cup in my hands."

I returned to my office and she followed me in holding pile of mail. I sat at my desk and she put the post in front of me.

"This was all with the early owls," she siad.

I took the sandwich out of my mouth and put it on my desk with the other.

"Oh Gertie, I want you to send a bill to the Auror department for services rendered. Standard rate for," I calculated the number of hours I was questioned, "four and a half hours. Make it care of Aurors Weasley and Phillips," I smirked. I wanted to see Weasley's face when that arrived.

"Sure thing," she answered, "also there's this package for you from Hogwarts," she said handing me a bulky package.

I looked at the package; it was from Emile.

"Thanks Gertie. Have I told you I love you," I said cheekily.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just after my money," she said as she left my office.

"That, and your bacon sandwiches," I said, taking a bite.

I opened the package from Emile and revealed a book that looked surprisingly similar to the one I was looking for. There was a note attached.

_'Dear boy,_

_I discovered this tome in my archives. While it is not the exact book you are looking for, it seems to have been copied at the same time and in the same manner as the missing text. I hope it helps you with your endeavors. I have discovered nothing of the actual book or the dagger. It appears that whoever stole it, did not do so to sell it._

_Warmest Regards,_

_Emile'_

I looked at the book. It certainly looked the same to me. I opened the book and realized it was in Latin. I didn't feel up to exploring the secrets of an ancient Latin text written by insane twelfth century monks so I checked the rest of my post, while I finished my breakfast.

I looked at my post and found that, amongst the bills and ads, there was a rather large envelope from a solicitor whose name I did not recognize. The letter was from my father's solicitor. According to the papers my father had left what was left of the Malfoy estates to me, with instructions to care for my mother, as long as she lived. I hadn't heard from my mother, though the papers did say that she was on vacation and had been advised of my father's death.

I determined that I was finally awake enough to tackle the book. I cast a translation charm and started to read the book. Even with the charm it was slow going. For those of you who have not tried it, reading a book containing the ramblings of an insane monk it not an easy task. This book was filled with horrible premonitions, visions and what looked to be, of all things, potion lists. I wondered what potion lists were doing in a Muggle book, then I remembered that the authors of these books were monks who had been researching magic and it's origins.

I slogged through the book for another few hours until my head swam. I decided to take a break and go grab some lunch.

I noticed the guy following me as soon as I left my office. He was not very good, so I knew he wasn't one of Potter's Aurors, or a professional to be worried about. I walked slowly around the side of a building then quickly ducked down a darkened alley and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later a short, pudgy wizard in nondescript robes came around the corner looking for me. As soon as he passed by me, I darted out of the alley, grabbed him by the collar and hit him with the best left hook I had ever thrown in that alley. I learned how to fight Muggle style a few years after Hogwarts. It comes in handy when you may not want your wand traced. Besides a quick physical attack will catch most wizard's off guard.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" I growled pointing my wand at him with one hand while still holding the front of his robes with the other.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, looking worried.

I violently jerked his robes toward me and headbutted him in the nose. I felt the bone break on my forehead.

"Wrong answer!" I snapped, as the blood started to flow from his nose. "Try again!"

"Okay, okay, I was hired to followed you," he sputtered.

"Who hired you," I asked digging my wand into his cheek.

"I don't know," he squeaked. "I swear I don't. I was paid anonymously and told to send my findings to an address the Muggle way."

"What's the address?"

"It's in my left hand pocket," he said.

Still holding my wand at his chest, I checked his pockets until I found a folded piece of parchment.

"Thanks," I said. "Stupefy!" The spell caused the guy to collapse.

I looked at the address on the paper. I didn't recognize it and knew it would need some research. I didn't know if my being followed had anything to do with my case but, as a rule, I don't believe in coincidences.

I finally had a thread. Now all I needed to do so was pull it and see what unraveled.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I want to thank those that are following this story. I am sorry it's been a while since any update real life has been a little too real as of late.**

**I do want to thank the lovely and talented chelseyb1010 who has graciously agreed to sift through this grammatical mess, as my beta**

**Disclaimer: I get nothing from this, as I own nothing but the plot. Thanks to JKR for her world.**

**Malfoy Files Chapter 9**

It turns out the Address on the paper, that I got from the man who followed me, was to a warehouse that had been abandoned. The mail from that warehouse was being forwarded to a Post Office Box. This meant another stakeout. I decided I would use my car for this. Due to the fact that I worked in the Muggle world, I had found the need for Muggle transportation a few times. The car was especially good on stakeouts. It was a lot better than standing under a cloak or with a disillusionment charm on you. You have a comfortable seat, you're out of the weather, you can listen to music (or at least what passes for it in the Muggle world) and you can still cast the disillusionment charm and the car appears empty.

I apparated to the the garage where I kept my car and fifteen minutes later I had pulled up down the street from the Post Office. After setting some proximity charms around the specific box I was watching I returned to the car and settled in.

I had brought the book for something to do while I waited. Not really wanting to put a lot of thought into studying the book I decided to flip through the pages. I discovered two of the pages were stuck together, but rather than by design it appeared that it was done on purpose. I used my wand to pry the two pages apart. On one of the revealed page there was a series of symbols and several, again what appeared to be potion lists. On the bottom of the page was a very cryptic passage that almost read like a prophecy.

_'Blood from the heirs of the three and their enemy. Bones of the servant who wasn't. Eyes that have seen murder. Ears that have ignored pleas. Tongue that has spoken lies.' _

The words were accompanied by several symbols and phrases in a language I didn't recognize, and my translation charm didn't work on. It was the other page that grabbed my attention more. There in full color was a rendition of the exact dagger I was looking for.

I was so engrossed in my only clue that I almost missed my proximity alarm going off. I got out of the car and sprinted across the street. A young man with dark skin and thick dreadlocks came out of the building holding the mail from the box. I made sure my charm was still active and I fell in behind him.

The guy was good. I would have never been able to follow him without the spell. He doubled back three times and took two trains before finally getting off at a stop just a few blocks from the Saterbourne Estate. So either my client or someone in her family had me followed. I followed dreadlocks all the way to the estate just to make sure, before Apparating back to my car.

Once back in the office, I sent an owl to Astoria telling her I was working a case and didn't expect to be home in a few days. I wasn't expecting a response and I didn't get one. I also sent Ms. Saterbourne an owl requesting a meeting at her earliest convenience. She sent back an owl stating she would be in my office tomorrow, promptly at Eight AM.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trying to make any sense of the book and the newly discovered pages. I don't know if it was the complexity of the runes, or the half-consumed bottle of fire whiskey in front of me, but I became thoroughly confused. So, I went to bed.

I was already in a bad mood when Ms. Saterbourne entered my office, as she had promised, promptly at eight, with Dreadlocks in tow.

"Mr Malfoy," she started, "you wanted to see me?"

Dreadlocks leaned against the far wall, with a composed relaxation. He looked like the hyper aware type, and the type of man that if it came to violence you wanted him on your side.

"Yes, firstly I wanted to give you a progress report, such as it is. I do not believe the book nor the dagger were stolen to be sold. I believe they were stolen for the knowledge that they may contain," I paused a moment taking a sip of my coffee. "Secondly, and more importantly, in order to do my job I need to go places, and talk to people in private. Someone, either at your behest or behind your back, hired a rather pathetic professional to follow me. That needs to stop, today."

"Mr Malfoy, I intend to keep track of my investment," she said with an air of superiority. "How am I to be sure that, once you've located the items, you won't just keep them?"

"Because I took the job and said I would find the items and return them to you," I said trying to match her previous tone. "I am not in the habit of lying to customers, it's bad for business." I sighed loudly and rubbed my chin. "Look, if you don't trust me, then pay me what you owe me and fire me," I said, looking coldly into her eyes. "If you want me to keep working, then back off and let me do my job."

"Mr Malfoy, I am not accustomed to being spoken to is such a manner," she protested, "When I pay for something, I own it and control it."

I sighed again letting my frustrations show by pinching the bridge of my nose. "Ms Saterbourne, I am in your employ, nothing else. You will get information and updates when I deem necessary. Is that understood?" I said putting extra force in my tone.

"There is no call to be uncivil," she said, turning her nose up.

"Lady, considering the last couple of days I've had," I said smirking, "I have been the epitome of civil. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a funeral to plan, estate papers to file and your case to try and solve." I said, with a note of finality.

"Very well," she said, standing up, "but I will not remain patient forever. I expect results and soon."

"I'll try and keep that in mind," I said, dismissively as she left my office.

-ooo-

The next few days were filled with making arraignments for the funeral, while still trying to decipher the text and symbols in the book. I had finally been in touch with my mother. She seemed to taking my father's death remarkably well, telling me to advise her when the funeral would be, and if her schedule permitted she would attend. It was heartwarming, really. "The Prophet" had caught wind of my father's murder and sent me a request for comment. I sent back and owl saying, 'Fuck off!' They ended up reporting it on page 5 with several anonymous quotes saying he deserved worse.

I was getting nowhere with the book, so I decided to look into my father's last known whereabouts and activities. I apparated to the mansion, knowing the wards had been adjusted to let me in. I was met at the door by Lizzie, my father's elf. Well I guessed she was mine now. I asked her to bring me some tea in my father's study. I figured that was as good a place as any to start looking.

"Oh Master Lucius, is being in there now," Lizzie said, sounding afraid.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "My father is dead."

"Lizzie knows that," she squeaked, "but he is being here since then."

"I don't under..." I started to say then it dawned on me. "He's a ghost?" Lizzie nodded, looking like she would bolt at any moment.

"You don't have to worry about the tea then," I said absently, as I went to his office door. Actually my father being a ghost made perfect sense. If ever there was a more malevolent, vicious and downright cowardly man; I had not been made aware of him. Crossing over or moving on would never have appealed to him. The ability to come back and try and make people miserable forever? That's a different story.

I stopped at the door to the office, to steady myself, by remembering that ghosts couldn't effect the real world, or at least I hoped. I opened the door and went in. Everything appeared in order. It was then I saw him hovering in a corner facing the wall. I really was not prepared for the gruesome sight that greeted me when he turned to face me. His face was contorted in pain and where is eyes should have been were gaping wounds oozing silver blood. He was still dressed in the clothes he died in.

"What do you want here, boy?" he snarled his voice dripping with malice. "You ever were a failure, you know that? If you had only done what was required then it would have been glorious.

"Hello father I was coming to see if I could find out who murdered you," I said allowing no emotion to show in my voice. "Perhaps you could save me some time and just tell me."

"Why would I help you?" he said spitefully "I will still be dead."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Suit yourself," I said dismissively. I sat at my father's desk and looked through the papers he had left laying out. Nothing looked unusual or interesting. The drawers of the desk didn't contain anything of interest either.

I decided to look through the small collection of books he had always kept in here instead of our main library. Most of the books were what you would expect a Pure-Blood Fanatic to have. Volumes on Pure-Blood genealogy, books about the dangers and evils of Muggle-borns, a history of the Knights of Walpurgis, a history of the Malfoy family. The book that really caught my attention was an older looking book that was bound in dark leather. I recognized the title from my attempts to decipher the other book as it had been referenced several times. 'Sanguimancy: The Art and Magic of Blood.'

I picked up the book and started to flip through it.

"You might as well put that back, boy," my father's ghost sneered at me. "You have neither the power nor the courage to attempt the magic it contains."

I wasn't sure if it meant anything but here was proof of a connection, I had been suspecting, between the Saterbourne case and my father's murder. I placed that book and the one on the Malfoy history into an attache case I found in the office.

"I wish I could say it was a pleasure speaking with you father," I said walking to the door "but I try not to lie unless necessary."

"You run along boy," my father spat. "I take solace in the possibility that my grandson will restore the Malfoy name back to its rightful place. A name, not to be ridiculed or scorned, but a name to be respected and most of all feared."

"Well, good luck with that," I said opening the door. "Oh, did I tell you; Scorpius has a new girlfriend." I smirked. "Rose Weasley. They are pretty serious, from what I hear. I would be surprised if they waited until they graduated to get married. Just imagine Malfoy blood mixing with, of all things, Weasley blood." I smirked knowingly and walked through the door, closing it, muffling my father's enraged screams in the process.

**A/N 2: I just wanted to say that the idea of Lucius being a ghost is not an original idea of mine. The first time I saw it was in a story by a friend of mine MuggleBeene. If you have not read his Professor Muggle series then you don't know what you're missing. It just seemed to fit perfectly with what we know about Lucius being a coward and very malevolent.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Again I wanna thank everyone who is following this story. Tell your friends to read it... I may give out cookies. Thanks to my Awesome/Neato/Keen beta chelseyb1010**

**And finally thanks to JKR whose world has inspired so much.**

**I have placed a few Easter eggs so to speak in this chapter let's see if you can find them.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. I gain no money from this either.**

**Malfoy Files Chapter 10**

I was getting nowhere with my comprehension of the book or the hidden pages. All I know for sure was it was somehow connected to a branch of magic I had never heard of. I could find no reference to Sanguimancy in any of the usual tomes I check: Tobin's Spirit Guide, The Mrin and Darine Codices, and lastly the Roylance Guide (of Secret Societies and Sects). I knew I would need the help of an expert in the field of dark magic so I decided to make an appointment with one such expert. Horace Slughorn had retired years ago from his position as Potions Master at Hogwarts. He now made money selling his expertise in potions and his knowledge of the Dark Arts to those with "theoretical" questions.

It turned out the appointment I made with Slughorn was on the same day as my father's funeral. I decided to do nothing additional for his funeral other than what he had laid out in his will. Aside from Astoria, Scorpius, Blaise and myself, very few other people made time to attend the services. Predictably Mother could not fit attending the funeral into her extremely busy schedule.

"I only showed up for the free bar," Blaise said, shaking my hand after the service.

"Blaise, you own a bar," I said, shaking my head.

Astoria and I exchanged goodbyes and decided that she would take Scorpius back to Hogwarts while I went to my appointment. Thankfully she had decided that she would leave Scorpius alone about his choice of girlfriend.

Astoria really is a fine woman. Sometimes I think if we were just left to our own devices, allowed to develop our own relationship rather than being forced together, we might have grown into something special. Oh, well. At that point, that ship had sailed, and the prospects seemed unlikely.

I hugged Scorpius goodbye and told him to do well. I disapparated from the funeral service directly to my meeting.

-ooo-

There was no other way to describe Horace Slughorn other than old. He was confined to a spelled chair that hovered wherever he willed it to go. His hand shook so badly that he could no longer do the precise work potion-making required. His mind was still as sharp as ever, though.

I entered his office and approached him. "Professor Slughorn," I said, extending my hand. "Thank you for seeing me."

"No problem at all," he said coldly, ignoring my hand. "What can I do for you?"

I recognized this look. I had seen it quite often. He had not gotten over the war or the role my family played in it.

"I have two texts I would like you to look at," I said, producing the two books I had. "I need you to tell me if there is any way they might be connected?"

"I will take a look," he said. "I assume that the standard fee has been paid to my assistant?" I nodded.

He picked up the book from my father's study and turned it so he could read the title. He gasped and dropped the book as if it bit him. "Merlin's beard," he said, almost hissing. "Where did you get that book? They were all supposed to be destroyed years ago."

"The book was in a private library I came across," I explained. "It has many of the same symbols as this other book and may be related to a case I am working."

"I will not be a party to the magics that are in that book," he said, pointing to the table. "It is illegal to even been in possession of it."

"Okay, what, if anything, can you tell me about this other book?" I asked, sliding the other book over to him.

He leafed through the book for a few minutes and placed it back on the table. "This is a copy of an illuminated manuscript from a very eclectic sect of the Catholic Church that arose in the 1200's," he said, pausing. "But I assume you already know that."

"What I want to know is why there are several pages that look like potion lists?" I asked, opening the book to a certain page and turning so he could read it. "And what do these symbols mean, and why are they in the other book as well?"

"Again we have entered into an area I will not speak of."

"I am willing to double your fee," I offered. "This is my only solid lead and I need information."

"All I will say is that the books both contain instructions on how to invoke an ancient and evil branch of magic," he said adamantly

"Can you at least point me to someone who might be able and willing to help me?" I asked.

Slughorn looked around nervously as if to make sure we were still alone. "The only person that studied these magics and might be willing to talk is currently in Azkaban."

"Great." I sighed sarcastically. "Give me the name and I can go from there."

"Oh, I believe you know the name already. It's Rabastan Lestrange."

I nodded, handed the additional galleons to him, and left the office. Now all I needed to do was find some way to get a visitation with the most notorious surviving Death Eater while getting the authorities to ignore that I am one as well. Sometimes my job's so easy it makes me ashamed.

-ooo-

I contacted Auror Phillips to see if he was able to help me get in to see Lestrange, and he had not contacted me back yet so I was at a standstill. I was sitting in my office going over my "all-time seen play in person" Quidditch team in my head. I was debating whether to play Katie Bell or Ginny Potter in the three position. It was an important decision as the three slot is the field captain and calls the formations and plays.

My door opened and a very large man with thick calloused hands and neck the size of a bull entered. He looked around then went to the doorway and nodded. A young woman, a girl really, entered my office closing the door behind her. She moved gracefully and economically as if she hated wasting any movement.

"Mr Malfoy, do you know who I am?" she asked sitting in the chair across from me.

"You're from the Quidditch Historical Society, you've heard of my dilemma between Potter and Bell, and you've come to help?"

The young woman smiled a hollow smile and nodded. "Emile said you were over fond of your own wit."

"I assume you're Petra then?" I asked. She nodded, shifting her positing in the chair. It was then that I noticed it was all a facade. This girl in front of me was scared, lost, and unsure of herself. "Emile said you might be coming by. Let me get right to it," I said, observing her reactions. "Did you recently steal several artifacts from the Saterbourne family estate?"

"I like a man who is straightforward," she said in what I assumed she thought was a seductive voice. "Why would I admit it to you if I did?"

"Do I look like the DMLEs?" I asked. "I just want to know if you had a hand in the theft. I assume you've checked my reputation so you know you can trust me to do what I say I will."

"Well, I guess you're in luck. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I was hired to steal said items. Let's also say that when I turned over those items I was paid significantly less than what was promised." She smiled. "Then I was told to keep my mouth shut. Again, it is lucky for you I don't always do as I am told."

"Okay, in your hypothetical, who hired you?"

"I was working for a mid-level fence named Bryce." I winced at the mention of her name. Petra slid me a folded piece of paper. "This is where you would, hypothetically, find Bryce," she said, smiling.

"And what do I owe you for this information?"

"I am sure we can think of something," she said, licking her lips in what I am sure she thought was a very sexy way.

I looked at her and shook my head. "How old are you?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"Does to me." I said. "Tell you what. I owe you; if you ever need help or anything let me know."

She appeared angry and stood up. "You don't know what you're missing, old man. I have men clamoring for my time and attention."

"I am sure," I said. "Just not me. If you need help with anything the hired muscle outside can't handle, let me know. I owe you."

Still a little upset she nodded and left my office. I hated that she was so young and appeared to have grown up too fast. There was nothing I could do about it right then. I looked at the address and recognized the location. I just hoped I could get there before Bryce moved on.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks for following this story. **

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, only the storyline. **

**Malfoy Files Chapter 11**

This wasn't going to be easy. Despite what I had told Emile, Bryce hated me. For a while Bryce and I had an arraignment. It had ended badly, with her wanting more than I could offer her. She was fun and we had good times, but there was no way it could ever had been more. I knew the address on the parchment; it was a deserted warehouse.

I apparated to the, supposedly deserted, warehouse. It was situated in a small magical community just outside northern London.

I moved quickly from underneath the bewitched street-torches and moved into the shadows by the entrance to the warehouse. I opened the door as quietly as possible moved into the darkness. I couldn't see anything but didn't want to risk a light tipping off Bryce. I gave myself a few minutes for my eyes to adjust eventually making out shapes and forms. I could hear rats somewhere in the darkness searching for food.

Eventually a thin yellow sliver of light came out from beneath a side door. I walked as quietly as I could to the door and listened for sounds. I heard nothing so I decided to open the door.

The door was only partially opened when a jet of red light and sparks hit the door from inside.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way and dived into the light landing behind a crate.

"Emma hold up it's me," I called out. The top of the crate I was behind splintered from another spell.

"Dammit, Emms it's me, Draco," I yelled out louder.

"I know," came the reply as more of the crate, I was behind, disintegrated.

"Will you, fucking stop," I yelled crouching while I prepared to make a dash to another crate. "I'm here to help you."

I could hear her moving forward. "Toss out your wand," she commanded.

I thought about it for a few seconds then tossed my wand a few feet away from me.

"I am gonna stand up now," I said. "I would appreciate not getting hexed." I slowly stood up and saw Emma standing about 10 feet away with her wand pointing at my chest.

"I'm not making any promises. What do you want?" she snapped.  
>Emma looked pretty much like I remembered brown hair, large doe eyes that could fool you into thinking their owner was innocent.<p>

"I said it already, I am here to help, and judging by your hair trigger and twitchyness I would say you could use it." I said moving in front of, and leaning on the crate. In the better light I noticed she was scared and looked like she hadn't been sleeping or bathing. Her cheek was cut and bruised.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked reaching towards her face. She turned away her face away from me.

"That bloody dagger and book happened," she snapped. "Was supposed to be a simple turn over. Wish I'd never taken that damn job." She took a seat at the small table in the middle of the room. "Turns out not all the people you meet while breaking the law are honest," she smiled sadly.

"Who knew?" I said, taking the seat across from her. "I take you weren't compensated the way you expected."

"Good assumption," she said standing and looking out a filthy window.

"I need to know who hired you?" I said.

"Just like that? I am supposed to roll over on my clients, burn what's left of my rep cause the great Draco Malfoy asks me to?" she said raising her voice.

"Emma...," I started to interrupt.

"Don't!" she yelled. "You don't get to come to me and ask favors! You just don't. You want something you pay for it like everyone else."

"Okay," I said not arguing. "What do you want?"

"Gold is always good," she said. "Five hundred galleons should be enough to get me lost."

"It's that bad?"

"You have no idea what these people are like. They're Muggles for the most part but they're like the scary ones. You know Hitler, Stalin, Captain Kangaroo," she said, "real twisted types."

"What did they want with dead magic and ancient rituals?"

"Didn't ask; didn't care," Emma remarked sitting back down.

"Okay I can pay you the gold, but I have to know who hired you and how you got in contact with them."

Emma pulled a cell phone from her pocket. "I said they were Muggles right?"

"Tell me exactly what happened," I pushed.

"Well after I got the book and dagger they decided that it would be best if they just killed me and took the merchandise without paying," she smirked. "This wasn't my first trip to the market so when I turned over the book and dagger I had a Portkey ready. I also kept some insurance." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a handful of papers.

"Are those...?" I started to ask.

"Pages from the book," she said, nodding. "I figured I could trade them for my life if I had to, but they just doubled their efforts to kill me instead."

"Tell you what," I said holding her eyes. "I'll pay you double what you asked, and see you out of town. You just give me the papers and the name of your contact."

"I don't have a name," She said, reaching into her pocket producing a cell phone. "This is prepaid and the only number programed in it is my contact. Big Muggle guy, looks like one of their soldiers."

She slid the papers and the phone over to me.

She got a strange look in her eyes bordering on nostalgia. "I thought I would be dead before we..."

Two things happened next. The window to the outside shattered and Emma's chest exploded. I felt something akin to a hot poker being shoved into my shoulder. The only reason I lived was reflexes. I rolled with the momentum and scrambled to my wand that was still where I had dropped it.

'Emma. Stop it!' I chided myself. I didn't have time to think about her. I felt something wet running down my back I couldn't move my left arm. I fixed a destination into my head and turned, gritting against the pain, hoping my concentration was high enough.

-ooo-

I always found it funny the way the subconscious works. I appeared on the font steps of the Firepit at one in the morning, bleeding from a shattered shoulder. I wondered what it said about me that the one place I fixed into my mind to be safe was a bar.

I woke up out of a fog with the white light stabbing my eyes. I looked over and saw Blaise sitting, asleep in a chair with a copy of Quidditch Weekly open in his lap.

"Hey," my throat was sore and raw.

Blaise cracked one eye open. "Do you mind? Some of us are trying to sleep over here,"

"Sorry," I said, trying to move to a sitting position. The pain wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but it still caused me to wince. "How long was I out?"

"Four days. The healers said it was touch and go for a bit. How, the bloody hell, did you end up shot by a Muggle weapon?" he asked.

"Long story. So my family know?" I asked.

"You don't remember anything?" Blaise asked me leaning forward.

"It's all kind of fuzzy. I remember bleeding all over Willy but that's about it."

"Well you were messed up," he said. "You gave me a bunch of papers, a Muggle cell phone, an address to a warehouse and told me not to tell anyone but Auror Phillips." I nodded letting the gravity of my situation sink in. "Of course Gertie found you," he smirked. "I think that witch is part bloodhound."

I smiled. I could always count on Gertie. I stared off into space and thought about Emma.

"You know that girl's death isn't your fault, right?" Blaise said standing up.

I wasn't shocked he had been aware of what was going on.

"Why does it feel like it is?" I asked.

"Cause you're suffering from a bad case of Potteritis," he smirked. "Not everything is your damn fault."

I nodded still thinking about Emma.

"Well, I got a business to run," he said, walking to the door. "I'll let Gertie know, your lazy ass is awake. Come get your stuff at the bar when they let you out."

I nodded and he left.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. I could still see Emma's face right before she was killed. Normally I didn't believe in revenge, as it lowers your life expectancy, but this was different, very very different.


	12. Chapter 12

**Malfoy Files Chapter 12**

**A/N: Sorry this chapter was so long in coming, I have been suffering extreme writer's block. This chapter has an homage to one of my favorite movies ever. **

**Disclaimer: I am not now nor have ever been JKR. I make no money from this.**

I was out of St. Mungo's three days later. By that time I had been visited by Gertie six times. I had given the address of the warehouse to Auror Phillips with a promise of a full statement and an explanation of "what in the sodding hell was going on." I was also required to send a report of my progress, so far, to Ms. Saterbourne. I couldn't send a letter just saying "bollocks", so I had Gertie make us something and I signed it.

Much to my surprise Astoria and Scorpius visited me as well. Astoria was angry with me, but I couldn't tell if it was because I was hurt and didn't tell her, or because I survived. 

Gertie helped me back to the office. I had no sooner sat at my desk than the door to my office opened and Auror Phillips walked inside. He had a package in his hands.

"This is from your hoodlum friend," he said, tossing the package on my desk. He sat in my client chair and sighed. "Now why don't you tell me what in the name of fuck is going on? I have a dead low-level fence who was killed with a Muggle weapon; the same weapon that put you in the hospital it seems."

"This is connected to a case I am working on," I explained. "It might also be connected to my father's murder."

He thought about what I was saying for a minute. "You got anything to drink?"

I opened the drawer of my desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I poured two glasses and handed one to Phillips. Phillips picked up the whiskey, sighed, and took off his glasses. I opened the package from Blaise while Phillips nursed his drink. Inside were the pages from the book and the cell phone.

Phillips downed his drink in one swallow and placed the glass back on the my desk. "Emma Bryce was a friend of yours." He said it like a statement of fact.

I nodded to Phillips. "She had information I needed."

"So, did you get it?" he asked.

I held up the papers and the phone. "I hope so."

"You know, Malfoy, I have stuck my neck out for you. As you may well know, my boss hates you," he said, while pouring himself another drink. "I'm not doing wonders for my promotion prospects hooking up with you. I think it's time you tell me what you know."

I considered his words and debated whether I could trust him or not. I sighed and decided I wasn't getting a hell of a lot done on my own, so I might as well trust him.

After fifteen minutes of explaining everything I knew, Auror Phillips sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So all you really know is that Lestrange knows about this branch of magic that no one else has ever heard of. I don't understand how that branch of magic could have existed and I know nothing about it. It's my job to track down dark magics and no one thought to clue me in?"

"They probably thought the threat had passed," I offered, swallowing some of my own drink. "That no one would be able to piece any of this together."

"Maybe, but something like this?"

I smirked. "It's been my experience that the good guys aren't always great with the communications. Where do we stand on my request to see Lestrange?"

"Well, I mentioned it to my superiors and they advised me to politely tell you to fuck straight off."

"Great," I said, letting my frustration take over. "What he knows could be the key to this whole thing."

"There is a way, though," he said. "I could request to see him and take you along as an unnamed corroborating witness."

"You can do that?" I asked, seeing a little light at the end of the tunnel.

"I can, but if this goes all pear-shaped, It will be my arse on the line," he said, swallowing some more of his drink. "So it had better be worth it."

"It will be, trust me." I smiled my most brilliant smile. The one that made grown men weep and women throw panties. Auror Phillips seemed to be immune.

"Why is it whenever anyone says those words to me, my butt itches?" Auror Phillips stared off into space for a few minutes while I looked over the papers. He rubbed his temples and sighed. "I seem to be remembering something. Can I see that weird prophecy thing again?"

I handed him the translation again and watched him read it. I saw something click behind his eyes and he stood up quickly. "I have to go check something," he said, grabbing his glasses from the desk. "I might have some more information. I will let you know." He walked out the door and disapparated as soon as he hit the sidewalk.

I had nothing better to do so I pulled out my copy of the book and compared the pages Bryce stole to it. There were a series of runes and symbols on the stolen pages that were not in my book. Not being able to translate the page, I copied it and placed the original back in my desk.

I was waiting to hear from Phillips so I asked Gertie to bring me the post. There was the usual assortment of junk and bills along with a letter from Zacharias Smith. Smith was a sleazy talent agent I worked with from time to time. He specialized in the trouble stars and was good at getting them out of the messes they got themselves into. The letter was requesting a copy of a case file I had worked for him a few months prior. It also asked if I was available for a security detail later that month. I figured while I was waiting for Phillips, I might as well make some money. I could ask Smith what the gig was when I dropped the file by his office. I asked Gertie to bring me the file. She told me it was not here but most likely in with the files I kept at home. I looked down at myself. I could use a change of clothes anyway, so I left the office and apparated home.

I landed on the front doorstep and tried to open the door. It was locked. This was weird because we hardly ever locked the doors, and Astoria should be home. I patted down my pockets and realized I didn't have my key, and the locks were spell resistant. So I knocked on my own front door. I knocked again wondering why neither Astoria nor my elf Tilly had answered the door.

After a few more minutes of knocking Astoria finally answered the door. Her hair was disheveled and she was wearing one of my bathrobes. I looked at my watch; it was ten A.M.

"You sleep in?" I asked, entering the house. "And where are the elves?"

"I wasn't feeling well and the elves are at the Manor with your mother."

"She's back?" I asked.

"Came back yesterday," Astoria said, covering herself with the robe and crossing her arms. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I needed some files I have here and change of clothes." I headed to the bedroom.

Astoria quickened her pace and got into the room before me. She sat on the bed and watched me as I gathered what I needed.

I gathered some fresh clothes and remembered I was running out of toiletries at the office. I went into the bathroom and picked up some of my things. I wiped the steam off the window and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I could use a shave. Something didn't seem right. I looked around the bathroom and then walked back into the bathroom. I packed some more of my stuff in a duffel bag and took another look around.

"Who's the guy in the closet?" I asked Astoria, nodding to the closed mirrored door.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Astoria spat out at me. "You're paranoid!"

"That's probably true, but who's the guy in the closet?"

"You're psycho!" she snapped. "There's no one here but us."

"Tori," I sighed quietly, "I'm a detective, remember? The shower's been on, your hair is dry. You're wearing my robe, yours is missing, and finally, the toilet seat is up." I smirked. "So, again: who's the guy in the closet?"

"I told you there's no one here!" she said, trying to keep her voice calm but failing.

"Then it really shouldn't matter if I fire off a few spells into there, huh?" I said, pulling my wand. "I think I'll start with _Bombarda_."

I had started saying the spell when Tori yelled for me to stop at the same time I heard a voice from the closet.

"Wait! Wait!"

The door slid open to reveal Zacharias Smith with his hair still wet and Tori's robe plastered to his still wet skin. He was holding his clothes. Tori stared at me defiantly as Smith climbed out of the closet. I followed him out of the bedroom into the living room.

"Look Draco, it didn't mean anything," Smith said, tripping over his pants as he tried to get dressed while still moving to the door. "It was an accident."

"An accident?" I asked incredulously. I spun him around until we were face to face. "What, were you walking along, tripped, and your dick fell in my wife? Oops! Sorry, Mrs. M! I hate it when that happens."

"It just happened," he continued to explain, putting on his shirt. "Hey man, I was serious about the job. I could still use you."

I looked at him and turned my head sideways. "Head or gut?"

"Oh man, come on." He looked scared. "It was just a good time. It didn't mean anything."

"You fuck my wife in my home?" I lowered my voice to a growl and stared coldly into his eyes. "Head or gut?"

Smith sighed and resolutely said, "Gut."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than I hit him with a short right hand to the solar plexis.

All the air rushed from Smith's lungs, and he crumpled to the ground. I pulled him to his feet and shoved him out the front door.

"I'll be in your office in two hours," I said, slamming the door in his face.

I walked back to the bedroom. Tori was still sitting on the end of the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, don't you, Tori?" I smirked as I moved through the room packing a few more things.

"I'm married to you, aren't I?" she spat almost in tears. "Should be evidence enough."

I just shook my head and retrieved the files from a wall safe. Tori was sitting silently on the bed staring into space.

"You remember the vacation we took after Scorpius was born?" she asked, her voice sounding almost normal.

I stopped at the end of the bed and looked at her, nodding my head. "Venice."

"You know," she started. "During that trip I thought there might be an us. What happened to you? You were so full of ambition and fire. Now ..."

"Now, what?" I asked.

"You've given up. It's bad enough you gave up on us but you've given up on everything else."

All the frustrations of the case, my father's and Emma's death just boiled over. I threw the duffel I was holding up against the wall. "Me? I'm not the one putting out for a two bit slime-bag like Smith. Do you even know what he does for a living?"

Tori shot off the bed, her cheeks now wet with tears. "At least he shows some passion, some desire for something."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" I screamed, not recognizing my own voice.

Tori began hitting my shoulders and chest. "Give me anything; show me something," she screamed near hysterics. "Say you hate me! Say I disgust you! Say if I ever do this again, you'll fucking kill me. Give me anything." She crumpled onto the bed as if the outburst had taken all of her energy.

I moved away and stared at her. I wanted to say something. For some reason I wanted to help her, to hold her and make her stop crying.

I turned in place and left the room, stopping to pick up my duffel and files on the way out. I walked through the living room and out the front door, closing it behind me to the sound of muffled sobs.


	13. Chapter 13

**Malfoy Flies Chapter 13**

**A/N: Thanks for following this despite how long it is taking me to update. **

**Disclaimer: I am not JKR and own nothing but the plot.**

I went to Smith's office to drop off the files. I was forced to wait to see him in his front office. I was still in a foul mood thanks to all that had happened the last few weeks including my latest fight with Tori.

"He will see you now," said a young blonde who had previously been more interested in her magazine than her job.

"Thanks," I said, giving her the smirk that has been known to cause grown men to weep and women swoon. She seemed strangely immune.

I walked into Smith's office and dropped the files on his desk, still scowling.

"Look, Draco," he said, looking concerned.

"Do not say you're sorry," I growled.

"I won't. I was serious, though," he said, swallowing, "I have a job for you."

"What's the job?" I asked, taking a seat across the desk from Smith.

"It's an asset protection detail for the Chudley Cannons."

"What's the asset?" I asked, thinking it was weird for a Quidditch team to need its assets protected.

"Have you heard of Katie Bell?" he asked me. I nodded. Anyone who followed Quidditch knew who Katie Bell was. She was a star chaser for the Harpies until drugs and a party lifestyle ruined her talent. "The Cannon management has signed her to a new contract, and they want …"

"A babysitter," I interrupted him.

"They are still paying well," he countered.

"Is she clean?" I asked, knowing her history.

"They say she is." He nodded. "She just got out of St Bart's."

"When would they need me?" I asked.

"Later this week," he said, looking at a calendar on his desk. "She has a public appearance, and they want to make sure she stays clean."

"Well, as fun as that sounds, I have a case I'm working on." I said, shaking my head. "I really can't take the time to babysit a famous junkie. Maybe I can get Blaise to do it for you."

"He doesn't really like me." Smith said. "Can you talk to him for me?"

"I'll see what I can do. It will cost you."

"I would be grateful, and I would owe you," he said, standing and holding out his hand.

I looked at his hand and smirked. "Yeah, you will." I turned and left his office.

**-ooo-**

It wasn't hard for me to convince Blaise to take the job. He had secretly been into Katie Bell for quite a while now. I got back to my office from The Firepit and was met at the door by a very angry Gertie.

"You are a bloody fool," she snapped at me with her hands on her hips.

"Probably." I sighed. "Why now?"

She just looked at me as if I had grown another head. "Astoria?" she said, cocking one eyebrow.

"How the hell do you know about that?"

"I have my ways." She followed me into my office signaling she wasn't going to let it drop.

I sat at my desk, opened the lower drawer, and pulled out my bottle. Gertie reached across the desk and pulled the bottle from my hands. "I think you've had enough of this today," she said curtly. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Shit, I don't know." I sighed. rubbing my eyes. "I just didn't like seeing her like that."

"Why in the world would it matter? It's not like you've kept it in your pants," she scolded me.

"I know I haven't, but for some reason it's bothering me."

"You wanna know what I think?" she asked

"Not really." I smirked. "But I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

"See, you're learning. I think it upset you because underneath all that cold aloofness and for all your protesting, you're a good guy." She paused to pour herself a drink. "And I also think you care about her." I looked at her and wondered when my secretary became so smart. She stood up and walked back to the front office. "Oh, before I forget, Auror Phillips called. He wants to see you when you have a chance. He said it has something to do with the case."

"Did he say where he would be?" I asked her.

"He said he would be at The Leaky Caldron for dinner if you want to join him."

I stood up to leave, and Gertie stopped me. "You really should talk to Ms. Saterbourne too. She has been driving me bonkers with her owls."

"Okay, set up a meeting later this week. Maybe I will have something for her by then." Gertie looked at and raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "Your confidence in me is inspiring," I smirked on my way out the door.

"I just go on past experience," she countered as I closed the door.

**-ooo-**

I walked into the Leaky Caldron and looked for Auror Phillips. I saw him sitting in a booth towards the back of the room. I slid into the booth across from him and ordered whatever was on special from the barmaid.

"So what did you find out?" I asked, not wasting any time.

"Well, when you mentioned that weird prophecy thing something clicked in my memory," he said, taking a bite of his stew. "I have spent the last two days poring over incident reports and here's what I found." He slid a folder with several papers and photos in it across the table to me. "Three months ago on the full moon someone vandalized an unmarked grave outside Spinner's End. It's not well known, but that grave belonged to Severus Snape. The only things taken were several of his bones."

I looked at him with a shocked expression. "The bones of a servant who wasn't," I said, more to myself than to him.

He nodded and continued. "Then two months ago the Muggle authorities found the mutilated remains of a man we later helped them identify as Amycus Carrow. The interesting thing about his corpse is it was missing his ears; according to the reports all the way down the auditory canals."

I quickly gathered where this was heading and didn't like it. "So when you include my father, all they need for whatever they are doing is a tongue that has told lies and whatever the blood of the heirs of the three and their enemy." Phillips nodded gravely. "We need to find out what's going on," I said angrily. "I have to get in to see Lestrange."

"I know," Phillips said. "Which is why I have made arrangements for tomorrow morning. I will meet you in your office at 8 A.M."

"Okay, is there anything I will need to bring with me? I don't want any misunderstandings in that place." I said.

"Have you ever been there?" Phillips asked.

I nodded, "My father was imprisoned my after my fifth year, and then my whole family awaited trial there after the war. I don't relish going back."

"It hasn't gotten any better. Even though the Dementors are gone, their presence can still be felt," Phillips said, standing up. "Pain and despair like that don't just go away." He tossed several Galleons on the table and said he would see me tomorrow.

I finished my dinner and went back to my office. It looked like I was going to be staying there for a while. I sat at my desk and found that Gertie had put my bottle back after I left. I poured myself a drink and stared off into space.

Azkaban. I hated the place. I was not ashamed to admit it was one of the few places I was actually afraid of, and tomorrow I was going to willingly walk back into the place.

I looked at my reflection in the darkened windows and raised my glass. "Gertie was right, you really are a fool." I said, draining the glass with one swallow.


	14. Chapter 14

**Malfoy Files Chapter 14**

**A/N: Hey all I am on the downward side of this story. Things should start moving faster and hopefully wrapping up.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of what you recognize. Thanks to JKR for her world.**

I stumbled from the restricted Floo into a small stone room. The memories I had been dreading came flooding back. I remembered that sixteen-year-old boy who had idolized his father. I had never seen my father cry or beg until my mother and I visited him there. That day I saw him do both. That was also the day I realized that my father was human. After the war my mother, father, and myself were detained there as well, awaiting our trial. The dementors were gone by then, but their presence had been absorbed into the rock itself.

"You okay?" Phillips asked, stumbling in behind me.

"I will be," I lied. "Let's get this over with."

We were met at the door by a huge man with a neck the size of a bull. "You'll have to check your wands," he said in a soft voice. He struck me as the kind of person who never needed to shout. We handed our wands to him and he placed them into a small stone box, locked it with his wand, and slid the box in to a hole in the wall. "I have to check you," he said, not asking for permission. He passed his wand over both of us and nodded. "Follow me."

We followed bullneck down a hallway into another stone room. The room was painted stark white and had several stone benches around a slab table. "He'll be here in a moment," bullneck said and left the room.

The lock clicked behind him. I was again reminded of the last time I was in one of these rooms and heard that sound. Phillips and I sat in silence; him looking over a folder of papers he brought and me lost in the horror of my memories.

I was brought out of the past by the sound of the lock clicking again. Rabastan Lestrange looked like a withered husk of what he once was. The last time I saw him he was a tall, regal-looking man staring defiantly at the Wizengamot as they sentenced him to the rest of his life in Azkaban. The man in front of me was broken and defeated. The guard sat him at the table; it was then I noticed the collar around his neck. Lestrange caught me looking at the device and smiled, showing a mouth full of broken, yellow and black teeth.

"If I try to cast magic it will cut my throat," he said, tapping the collar, his voice rusty and cracked from lack of use.

"Rabastan Lestrange," Phillips started. "I have been empowered to give you certain considerations if you cooperate with us and your information proves useful."

Lestrange looked at me the whole time Phillips was talking. "You're Lucius' boy aren't you?" he asked.

I nodded. "I am Draco Malfoy."

"I remember you," he said, scratching his wild beard. "You're the one who failed the Dark Lord." He laughed a hollow laugh without humor. "At least you were better than your sister."

It was then that I realized that Lestrange was quite insane. I never had a sister and now that my father was dead, never would.

Phillips spoke up. "We want to know everything you can tell us about Sanguimancy, and this." He handed a copy of the prophecy to Lestrange. "Near as we can tell it's a prophecy of some kind," Phillips said, leaning forward.

Lestrange read the parchment and smiled, his cracked and broken teeth again showing. "This is more than a prophecy. Oh yes, so much more. It is a map."

"To what?" I couldn't resist asking.

"It leads to death," he said, pausing. "The death of Magic."

"What the hell does that mean?" Phillips asked, losing his patience.

"We always thought it was a myth; those few of us who dared dabble in the Blood Magic, that is. It combines the magics of rituals, potions and divinations to create a weapon."

"A weapon for what?" Phillips asked.

"Think, Auror, what would fanatical monks, who had just discovered magic exists, try and do?" Lestrange spat out.

"They would try and destroy it," I answered for him.

"Exactly." Lestrange cackled.

"But why would anyone, in today's magical world, try and destroy magic?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

"You, being a Malfoy should have keen insight into the reasons one may wish magic destroyed. Ask your parents about Carinae," Lestrange said.

"Who the hell is that?" I demanded.

"Ask Lucius. I have said all that I will and all that you can make me say," Lestrange said, seeming suddenly calm.

"We will see about that," Phillips said, standing up. "A little Veritaserum should help."

I looked at Lestrange and he smiled his broken smile and mouthed the word "Silencio." His throat was immediately sliced open by the collar and his blood sprayed across the table hitting both of us. One look at Lestrange and it was obviously too late.

Phillips filled out the required paperwork in silence; we retrieved our wands and left through the Floo. We returned to my office where we were met by Gertie with horror and concern.

"I guess I should just be glad it's not yours," Gertie said to me while casting a couple of cleaning charms on both mine and Phillips' clothes.

"Hey, how can you be mad at me?" I protested. "I didn't do anything."

"This time," Gertie said, walking from my office to the front room.

Phillips sat in one of my client chairs and looked at me. "What was all that talk about Carinae?" he asked.

"I have no bloody clue," I answered. "But I know who might."

"And who's that?"

"Lestrange told me to ask my parents. My father is being entirely unhelpful in his death. I think I might try my mother."

**-ooo-**

Phillips left my office needing to file more paperwork and explain to his superiors exactly what happened. I didn't envy the Auror. He would probably get his ass chewed out pretty good for me even being anywhere near his investigation.

I arrived at the manor and told the house elf I wanted to speak with my mother. I walked into the lavish sitting room and waited for my mother's arrival.

My mother swept into the room. She was wearing golden and purple robes. She still commanding a lot of the grace and beauty she had once been known for. She walked to me and kissed me on my cheek.

"Draco, it is so good to see you," she said, sitting in a chair next to me. "We haven't seen much of each other since the unpleasantness." Leave it to my mother to describe the gristly murder and mutilation of her husband in that manner.

"Hello, Mother. I'm afraid this is not a social call. I am working on Father's death and a name came up in relation to you and Father," I paused making sure I had her full attention. "What does the name Carinae mean to you?"

My mother blinked and for just a moment I saw panic in her eyes. "I don't believe I have ever heard that name, why do you ask?"

"Mother." I sighed, trying not to lose my patience, "I have it on good authority that you do, indeed, know that name. This may help me find out why Father and, not coincidentally, a very good friend of mine was killed. If you know anything, and judging by your reaction a moment ago you do, you have to tell me."

My mother's face grew dark and her eyes became clouded. "This is your father's fault, all of this," she spat out with a wave of anger and contempt I didn't know she could harbor for my father. My mother sighed and her shoulders slumped. She looked decidedly older all of a sudden. "Your father and I were married as soon as I left Hogwarts. I was only eighteen when I became pregnant. This child was a beautiful baby girl. I loved that girl and doted on her." Mother's eyes grew even darker. "Your father, however, was not satisfied." My mother's face twisted in a sneer I had seen my father wear so many times. "The Malfoy line required an heir. You were born seven years later. We were happy, the three of us, until the day your father had you and your sister tested. She was deemed to be a squib."

I looked at my mother in shock; she was actually crying. The woman who had braved Azkaban and never had a hair out of place was crying.

"Your father was ashamed, and your sister was sent away. I used what influence I could with your father's contacts and had her adopted at age seven by a wealthy Muggle family. He acquired the services of a very skilled Obliviator to tamper with your's and your sister's memories. Neither of you would remember each other. I was devastated but had no choice. I devoted what love I had left to you." My mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief she summoned. "Draco, giving up that child is my greatest regret. That child, in keeping with Black tradition, was named Carinae."

We sat together in silence for a long time. Finally I cleared my throat and spoke. "Mother, who adopted the gir... my sister?" The words felt strange yet somehow right to say.

"I don't know. All I know is I made your father swear an Unbreakable Vow that she would never want for anything and would be adopted by those who could care for her. I wanted only the best for her."

"Well, that certainly didn't work out did it?" I said flatly. "Who did the obliviation? I need to get it reversed."

My mother shook her head. "You can't, it's too late. The person who did it for us can't reverse it now and it's too dangerous for someone else to try."

"Why can't the person who took the memories just put them back?"

"It was Gilderoy Lockhart," my mother said, sounding defeated.

"Well, that just fucking figures." I suddenly felt a dam break in my chest, and all the anger and frustration that had been building for weeks flooded out of me.

I stood from the chair, picked it up, and shattered it up against the stone hearth of the fireplace. I ranted and fumed incoherently. After a good ten minutes of covering all topics ranging from my failing marriage to my sociopathic father to the current state of this case, I dropped onto a sofa and sighed.

"Do you feel better?" my mother, who had been sitting quietly watching my temper tantrum, asked.

"Not really, but I don't feel any worse either," I said, leaning on the arm of the sofa with my head propped up on one hand. "You know, this Carinae person may have been responsible for Father's death."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Whoever killed Father may be trying to do something to destroy magic. Can you think of anyone who would want to destroy magic more than a spurned squib?" I asked.

"But she can't have gained back her memories. It's not possible, is it?" My mother's face showed hope.

"I don't know, but it sure seems like a possibility." I stood up and smoothed out my clothes.

"What are you going to do now?" my mother asked.

"What I always do." I smirked. "I am gonna poke around in something I have no business being in until I piss someone off enough for them to make a move."

"Draco, please be careful. If this person is the one who killed your father, squib or not, she has proved herself to be quite impressive and most dangerous." I could almost swear my mother let a moment of pride show in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Mother. This case is such a cock-up I seriously don't think it could get any worse."

I couldn't believe I just let those words come out of my mouth. Yep, I just confirmed again that Gertie was right; I am a bloody fool.


	15. Chapter 15

**Malfoy Files Chapter 15**

**A/N: I hope I am not making this mystery too convoluted. I estimate there are about four more chapters after this one.**

Two days later Gertie made an appointment for Ms. Saterbourne to come to the office on a Saturday for an update. I had spent the last two days trying to study the prophecy and figure out what the ritual might actually do. Being that the only person who might have been able to tell me anything had slit his own throat, I was at, yet another, dead end.

Gertie brought me out of my studies and told me Ms. Saterbourne was here. Gertie showed her in and sat in a chair next to me as if she were going to take notes. I managed not to let the shock show on my face, as this was the first time Gertie had ever done anything like that.

Ms. Saterbourne looked like a Muggle model. One of those women it's impossible to tell how old they are because they always look great. "Mr. Malfoy," she started rather coldly, taking a seat. "I require an update. It seems you have been avoiding me, and I would like to know exactly what it is I have been paying for."

"Ms. Saterbourne, I have not been avoiding you." I said wearily. "I have been busy. This case is not an easy one. It has already led to the death of two people close to me and possibly countless others are at risk."

"I hired you to retrieve property that was stolen from me. That is all I care about."

"That may well be all you care about, but the Aurors may have other concerns," I said.

"You contacted the Aurors?" she said, getting angry. "You said you would keep the authorities out of it."

"That was possible when it was a simple theft. But it is now a multiple murder case with one of those people being someone I cared about … and the other my father," I said, matching her tone. "I will not compromise myself or those I care about for you."

"I have hired you. You will do as I say." She continued the argument.

"Look lady, I will try and solve the case, and if I can I will return your items. If you want to fire me, I really don't care. I have too much invested in this thing not to see it through."

Ms. Saterbourne sighed and looked defeated. "You don't understand. You have to get me that book and dagger. It contains … power you could not understand."

I looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. She must have dropped a glamour or something because she looked older, much rougher than just a few minutes ago.

"How did you do that?" I asked. "You're a Muggle."

She sighed and sat back. "Let me tell you a story, Draco." She used my name; it seemed odd but familiar. "There was once this young girl who had a loving mother and loved her little brother very much," she said, swallowing against the emotion. "Her father, however, was a cold and evil man. He cared nothing for the child – just what she represented. One day the father found out the girl was different. She wasn't like the others in her family and this made her father angry. He did something to her brother to make him forget her and sent her away."

I knew where this was going but was too stunned to speak.

"The little girl was adopted by a loving Austrian family. This family was descended from a heretical Muggle monastic order. The man and woman could not have children so the little girl was a godsend. The family brought her up in their ways. The order was charged with protecting something, to make sure no one could ever use it. You see the original monks in the order had discovered a very powerful and destructive weapon. They notified the Vatican of their findings and were told to use the weapon. The monks, knowing the power and consequences, refused, disbanded, and hid the formulae for the weapon. They hid it in bloodlines, prophecies, and books." She paused and asked for a drink of water. She continued after Gertie brought her the water. "As you may have guessed, I am that girl. My father and I came to England after my mother died. My father discovered he had a knack for alternative revenue streams."

I smiled. "Crime."

She nodded. "Nothing violent or demeaning but yes, illegal. All was fine until a few months ago when that Petra person stole the book and dagger from us. You have to find out where the book is and the dagger before the people who took it use it."

"What does the ritual actually do? All I can find is references to the death of magic."

"That's what it does. The problem is it's the death of all magic. Not just what you use, but the force that binds all life together. It would truly bring about an apocalypse."

"Why would anyone do that?" I asked.

"I can understand the anger and hate of magic. Had I been raised in a different world by different people I might have wanted magic gone as well. Instead I have dedicated my life to protecting it."

I wanted to ask her the question but was afraid of the answer.

As if she could read my mind she looked into my eyes and nodded. "Go ahead, ask."

"Are you Corinae?" I asked, barely audible.

"I have not been called that since I was a little girl."

"Why didn't you tell me when you first came here, and what was with all the flirting?"

"I had to make sure you were your father's son in name only. I could not risk you being like him."

"I take it I passed the test then?" I asked.

Gertie, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "I think there is more Malfoy in you than you would like to admit," she said spitefully to Corinae. "You come in here and play with a person's emotions and don't let them know they are in danger. He could have been killed! I don't care how important your mission is or what's at stake. What you've done is wrong."

She started around the desk, but I reached out and took her arm. "Gertie, don't. It's okay." She nodded and sat back in chair, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Okay, we can do the tearful reunion thing later. I think it's time you tell me what and who I am up against," I said.

"I don't have a lot of information. I know they are a sect as old as the monks. They believe that no world at all is better than one in which some have magic while other don't. This group is made up of disaffected wizards, squibs, and Muggles who have spent their lives and not inconsiderable fortunes fighting magic. I don't know how they found out about the ritual, but they did. I know their leader is a woman. She is said to be a fanatic and insane. She is a witch but for some reason has the belief the world is better without magic. She intends to use the ritual."

"Speaking of the ritual, what does it mean?" Gertie asked, having calmed down.

"Well, the first part is pretty straightforward. You gather the parts specified and combine them in a ritual. Once all together they make a sort of virus that attacks magic. The monks were smart, however; they hid the key ingredients in a prophecy."

"Has the other side figured out the prophecy?" I asked, concerned.

"They must have. They would not have started gathering the parts if they weren't sure. They are still a few pieces short from what I gather. They need the tongue of a liar and the blood of the heirs of the three and their enemy, whatever that is."

"They might already have the tongue, though," Gertie said, getting up the chair and going to her desk.

She handed me the paper and pointed out a small article on the back page. The article told of an unidentified body found in a small magical community. The odd part about the body was that the tongue had been removed.

"Great, so the only thing they don't have is this blood of the heirs stuff," I said, scratching the back of my neck. "What does that mean, though?"

"It's one of the reasons I was so insistent on seeing you," Corinae said. "I want you to think about it. What event of recent times might have stood out to a twelfth century seer?"

"There are a lot of things," I said, thinking aloud.

"The war," Gertie said.

Corinae nodded. "Now who are the three always referred to when talking about the war?"

"Potter, Weasley and Granger … So it means their heirs?" I asked.

"It's a possibility, but that's not all. If you're a seer looking into the future who might you assume is their enemy?"

The room was deathly quiet when I answered. "Me."

Corinae again nodded her head. "There is a good chance that they are in danger and probably soon."

"Sooner that you think," I said, reaching into my desk and pulling out a calendar. My suspicions were confirmed. I stood up and immediately went into action. "Gertie, get in touch with Phillips and have him tell Weasley and Potter about the danger."

"I'm on it, boss," she said, leaving the room.

I grabbed my jacket and made sure I had my wands.

"Where are you going?" Corinae asked.

"Hogsmeade."

**-OOO-**

I apparated onto the main street and quickly came to the realization just how many students were at Hogsmeade this weekend. I was scanning for my son and the boy I had seen with him. The place was a security nightmare. Someone could have snatched the kids right out from under my nose, and I would have never known. I kept moving. I figured the more ground I covered, the better chance I had of finding them. I checked The Three Broomsticks, and they weren't there. I saw a child with red hair walk by, and I had an idea. I put my hand on the child's shoulder to stop her.

"Do you know Scorpius Malfoy or Albus Potter?" I asked the young girl.

"Yeah, who are you?" the girl snapped.

"Scorpius is my son and I need to talk to him. Have you seen him?"

"He's not here," the girl said.

"What?"

"He's not allowed," she said with her nose in the air.

"Lucy …" a dark-haired girl came up, grabbing her. "Let's go! All the sugar quills will be gone," the dark-haired girl said, pulling the redhead away.

I felt like a fool. I had forgotten that Scorpius was not allowed at Hogsmeade this term. So he should be at the castle. With luck Rose and Albus will have chosen to stay as well, but I couldn't count on that. I continued to scan for Albus. I was walking the path to The Shrieking Shack when I heard the scream.

I vaulted the fence around the shack and sprinted towards where the scream came from. I ran up on two girls; one was on the ground and the other was yelling for help. I had my wand out and was scanning the area for movement.

"What happened?" I asked, leaning over the girl on the ground. She had been stunned.

"I found her here," the girl cried. "We were supposed all meet up."

"Who's 'we'?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

"Me and Talia," she said, pointing to the ground.

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"Her boyfriend Albus and his cousin Rose."

"Have you seen them?" I asked.

The girl shook her head. "She's the only one I have seen."

"You stay with her," I said, pointing to the girl on the ground. "I am going to look around."

I walked to the back of the shack but didn't see anything. I was getting ready to go back to the girl when I saw half of a rock on the ground. I reached out on the ground and found an invisibility cloak. When I picked up the cloak I saw that it had been covering a dark spot on the ground that looked like blood. Though that wasn't what I saw that made my blood run cold. There, on the ground next to the blood, was the wand I would recognize anywhere. I was there when it chose its owner.

It was my son's.


	16. Chapter 16

**Malfoy Files Chapter 16**

**A/N: Thanks to all my readers who have stuck with this. We are on the downside of this story. Fear not I have several ideas for more of out favorite magical PI**

I never understood what the Muggles talked about when they mentioned shock and awe. That is until I saw the entirety of the DMLE and the Weasley family descend on the little village of Hogsmeade.

As soon as we had ascertained what happened, the world went into fast forward. There were Aurors and investigators taking statements from all the students and shop owners. The Hog's Head had been set up as a field headquarters, and I was sitting in a small booth waiting to be told something, anything.

Gertie had heard what happened and contacted both Blaise and Tori. Blaise showed up with his charge, Katie Bell, in tow. After a brief discussion with myself, then Auror Phillips, Tori camped out at a separate table. Gertie sent me a message saying that she and Corinae were going to be trying to make contact with the remnants of Monastic order Corinae mentioned.

"Malfoy!" a voice bellowed, one that I had been hoping to avoid. I stood up and met a livid Ron Weasley, approaching me.

"What hell has your family got my daughter mixed up in?" he screamed. being restrained by several Aurors.

"Weasley," I spat out. "If you would use your brain for a minute, I know it must be against your moral code or something, you would realize that my son, your daughter and Potter's son are all missing. Have you even read Phillips' report?" Weasley looked at me blankly. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Just rush out and blame the Malfoy. Typical." I summoned the Malfoy presence I had been trained in since birth but seldom used. "Now, if you would just sit down and SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP Phillips might be persuaded to fill us all in. You might even learn something." I nodded at Phillips, who had been standing off to the side watching the commotion.

Phillips cleared his throat and asked for everyone but the family of the missing children to leave. Weasley sat down at a table with his wife. Potter and his wife sat next to them. Potter looked as though he was completely focused. Ginny, his wife, looked as if she was going to spit fire at any moment.

"Okay, here's the deal," Phillips started.

After ten minutes of filling everyone in on the bare bones of the case, Weasley again spoke up. This time he seemed to be lost in concentration and much more calm. I guess Granger has had that effect on him. "I just don't see her strategy here," he said more to himself. "What is her end game?" he asked, speaking as the other group's leader.

"I think they are just tired of being the second class," I spoke up. "I think most of you in this room knows what that feels like," I said, looking around. "Now take what you've felt and multiply it by all the pain and rage for being a squib in this world or a witch or wizard who wasn't taught because they weren't lucky enough to get taken into Hogwarts or one of the other schools." I looked at Weasley. "We're not talking logic here. This is hatred, and hatred isn't about brains, children," I said, pointing at my head. "It's about blood screaming inside to work its will. And if you're not careful it just might. Believe me, I know."

"So, what do we do?" Potter asked the collected people who had fallen silent at my outburst.

"We track the bitch, fight the bitch, and if necessary, kill the bitch!" Everyone turned to look at Tori, who had taken to her feet.

Weasley smiled grimly, "Sounds like the best plan I've heard all day."

"But how do we do that?" Granger asked. "We know little or nothing about her."

I heard several raised voices and a commotion coming from outside the bar. I recognized the voice. I poked my head out the door to see what was going on

"Look, Auror-boy, either you let us in there or you will be wearing your bullocks for earmuffs," Gertie said with her hands on her hips, almost bumping noses with a large red-faced Auror who had been charged with guarding the meeting, even though she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him. Corinae stood nervously behind Gertie. She was holding a wooden box and a folder of papers.

Gertie saw me stick my head out the door. "Mr M! Will you tell this walking side of beef to let us pass? We might know how to find them."

"Auror, it's okay." I heard Potter's voice behind me in the doorway. There was a note of authority in his voice that said he was not to be questioned.

The side of beef stepped aside and Gertie elbowed him in the stomach as she passed by, pulling Corinae with her. The two women entered into the pub and sat down at the nearest table.

Gertie looked at me and started talking. "Cor and I got in touch with the remnants of her parent's order. They had no idea where the sect may have taken the children, but," she opened the box on the table, "they sent us this." She pulled out a small metal and wooden box with runes and other symbols carved into it.

"What the hell is that?" Weasley asked what was on all of our minds.

Corinae spoke up. "It's a blood tracker. It will lead you to the desired blood relation of the person making the sacrifice."

"What kind of sacrifice?" Potter asked. We all gathered around the table.

"They didn't say," Corinae answered. "It has to be a direct blood relative of the person you're looking for and it won't be pleasant, possibly fatal even."

Granger looked around the table at the gathered parents. "So it should be one of us."

"I'll do it," we all announced almost at the same time. An argument ensued as to who should take the risk, with each of us arguing that it should be him.

Corinae raised her voice above the crowd. "According to the people we spoke with the sect has about 150 members, and they have been gathering at an unknown location," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality. "That's Muggles and Wizards. You will all be needed." She looked at me and smiled sadly. "Lucky for Draco he has a direct blood relative who is useless in this fight."

"Who are you talking about?" Astoria asked, sounding lost.

Without any further warning or conversation Corinae place her hands on either side of the cube and spoke the incantation she had been told.

"No!" I called out too late.

The runes on the cube lit up, and a red light flowed from the cube into one of Corinae's hands. We could all see the light flow up the veins of one of her arms, across her chest, and down the other back into the cube. Corinae slumped down the chair to the floor, dropping the cube in the process. I rushed forward and found that she was still breathing but unconscious.

Weasley picked up the cube from the table and turned it over in his hands. "Is this supposed to do something?"

Gertie reached forward and took the cube from his hand. "It has to be a blood relative," she said, handing the cube to me.

As soon as my hand touched the cube, I could sense my son. He was scared but alert. I reached out with my mind. "Scorpius," I said aloud.

"Dad?" my son answered, shocked at the voice in his head.

"

Son, listen and don't talk," I said, my voice showing its urgency. I could feel Scorpius nod. "Just think your answers; I will be able to hear them, okay?"

"I got it. How are you doing this?" he asked.

"Never mind that, are you all okay?"

"I think so. Rose isn't moving though." I felt my son's panic take over and flood his brain.

"Scorpius! Listen to me. You won't do her any good this way. You have to be calm." My son nodded and I felt him reign in his emotions. "Can you tell where you are? Any ideas at all."

"No but I'm pretty sure we're not in England. Most of the people are speaking in a weird language or broken English. It sounds like German but I know it's not that."

"That's fine, what can you see?"

"Not much, we're in a cave, I think. It's cold and damp. The walls are natural stone. Wait a minute ..." My son sounded excited. "Dad, there's a fungus here, I think I recognize it. Merlin, I wish Rose or Albus were awake. I am rubbish at Herbology." He started to give up.

"Scorpius, you're doing fine. Describe the fungus to me," I said aloud, catching Granger's eye. She nodded.

"It's kind of pink with darker red splotches and it looks like ... well, it looks like a dick."

I relayed my son's information to Granger, and she looked off into space for a minute as if she was accessing a memory. "I think it's Merryman's Wort," she said.

"How does that help us?" I asked, still concentrating on the link with my son.

"More than you might think," she said, standing up and starting to pace like she was giving a lecture. "That fungus is found only in certain lower mountain areas of Austria."

"That explains it," I exclaimed, happy to have a lead. "Scorpius said he can hear a language that sounds like German but isn't."

Potter stood up and immediately called one of his senior Aurors to him. "We will need unlimited Portkey access to Austria," he said to the Auror who was writing down everything he said. "I will brief Kingsley so he can smooth over the diplomacy."

"We will need to free up access from Romania as well," Weasley spoke up.

Potter nodded and the Auror taking notes added it to the list.

I reached out with my thoughts. "Scorpius, I am going to have to let you go. I will try and reconnect when we get to Austria, okay?"

"Okay," my son answered. "Dad? Hurry. Rose doesn't look too good."

"We will, son," I answered, closing off the connection. I relayed what my son had said and watched Weasley and Granger grow pale.

"We'll get 'em, Ron," Potter said, putting his hand on Weasley's arm while Ginny Potter hugged Granger. "I assume you're going?" he asked, looking at me.

I nodded. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as everyone is ready," Potter answered.

I walked over to where Astoria was sitting alone. She looked up at me with concern and fear in her eyes. She stood up and put her hands on either side of my face. "You bring him back to me. Do you understand?" I nodded. "You are the most stubborn, bull-headed, obstinate, difficult, and amazing man I have ever known," she said, smiling despite her concern. "I know you won't ever give up."

She leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips. Despite everything that was happening, all the fear and uncertainty, I felt something I had never really felt from her before: love. I leaned into the kiss and turned it into an passionate embrace.

I broke off the kiss and started to walk away, then turned back to her and smirked. "When I get back, we are going to have a long talk."

I walked out of the Hog's Head and went to get the gear I would need.


	17. Chapter 17

**Malfoy Files Chapter 17**

**A/N: We are coming up on the end of this. I appreciate all who have followed this. I would really like to thank my awesome beta chelseyb1010, for making my chicken scratching into a readable form.**

Chapter 17

We all agreed to meet back at Hogsmeade in three hours. I already had everything I needed with me so, I took a walk. I walked around the little village lost in my own thoughts and memories. We still didn't know exactly what we were up against, and we were running out of time to find out. A plan started to form in my head as I quickly made my way back to the Hog's Head.

I entered the tap room and sought out Blaise. I then gathered Gertie and Auror Phillips. What I was planning was risky and dangerous, and these were the people I knew I could trust. We sat at a small table in the corner of the bar talking. We had less than three hours to pull off my plan.

"So what do you think?" I asked

"That depends," Blaise answered. "Are you in any way kidding?"

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"It is a pretty far-fetched plan," Gertie added.

"It's a little more than that," Phillips objected. "It's dangerous and flies in the face of logic." He smirked. "I think it's bloody brilliant."

"Hey, not to poop on anyone's party here," Gertie objected. "But I'm the girl who has to pull this off."

"Gertie, I wouldn't ask it of you if I didn't think you were up for it," I said, sliding her the cell phone I had received from Bryce.

Gertie nodded and bit her lip, still looking unsure. Phillips took her hand. "You'll do great," he reassured her. Gertie smiled, squeezed his hand and stood up. I stood up along with her.

"Just don't be late," I said, looking at Blaise and Phillips who both nodded.

Gertie and I made an excuse about needing something from my office. We apparated to my office, and Gertie wasted no time in turning on the phone and making a call to the only saved number.

"I have something you want," she said into the phone. "Never mind who I am. My price is one hundred thousand pounds, and it needs to be in the next…" she looked at me questioningly, and I held up my watch. "… thirty minutes." Gertie paused as if she was listening to something. "Look, Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop in the next thirty minutes or I turn over what I have to the Aurors." She snapped the phone shut and looked at me. "He says he will be there."

"Probably not alone either," I commented.

"I just hope Alec and Zabini make it on time," she said, the care in her voice evident.

"Alec?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Shut up," Gertie responded, looking down and blushing slightly.

"Why Miss Gertrude, I don't believe I have ever seen you blush," I teased her.

"I said, shut up," she growled, throwing a right hand into my shoulder.

"Alright, alright," I said. feigning pain. "Phillips seems like a good guy. How long have you two been going out?"

"Since you were shot. It just sorta happened, ya know?" she answered.

"Well, we should probably get going," I said, picking up my coat.

- OOO -

I disillusioned myself in the office and followed Gertie as she walked to the little outdoor shop. She took a seat at one of the tables, and I stood a few feet away from her, watching the crowd.

A few moments later, right on time, a man with short brown hair approached the table where Gertie was sitting and took the seat across from her. I moved as quietly as I could to a position where I could overhear what was being said.

"Look, lady," the man growled. "You have no clue what you're up against. Why don't you just hand over what we want, nice and slow-like, and we might just let you live."

The man was talking like he had backup. I couldn't worry about that. If there was backup it would be Phillips' and Blaise's job to identify, and neutralize it. My job was to keep close to Gertie, get what we came for, and keep her safe in the process.

"You don't scare me," Gertie said defiantly. "I have something you need , and I'm pretty sure your bosses are gonna be awfully mad if you don't bring it back."

"Let's see it," the man demanded.

Gertie shook her head. "How do I even know you have it? For all I know, you're just a low-level lackey, an errand boy.

The man's face grew hard, and he lunged across the table at Gertie. She had not given me the signal, but I acted anyway. I quickly moved the few feet separating us and dropped my spell; at the same time I fired a stunner straight into the small of the man's back.

I heard the sounds of shouting and spells being cast coming from a nearby alley. I grabbed the unconscious man by his arm and with one fluid motion grabbed Gertie's hand and spun on the spot. We appeared on the street in front of the Hog's Head, closely followed by two more pops indicating that Blaise and Phillips had followed our lead.

"Any trouble?" I asked Blaise as he opened the door to the bar.

"He had backup," Blaise commented.

"Had, being the operative word," Phillips finished his thought.

I hefted our slumped prisoner through the door and dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Who the bloody hell is that?" Weasley was the first to speak up.

"This," I said, nudging the man with my shoe, "is someone who may just be able to help us out with a little more information than we already have. I hate going into anything blind."

"Where did he come from?" Potter asked, joining us.

"I laid a trap, and it worked." Blaise and I picked up the man and tied him to a chair in the middle of the room.

"I suppose we do need to find out what he knows," Potter said thoughtfully, running his hand through his hair. "I could try Legilimency, though I am not that accomplished."

"I am probably more accomplished than you, Potter," I said. "But I think in his current state it might do irreparable damage to the information we need." Potter nodded in understanding.

"We could try Veritaserum," Weasley suggested.

Potter shook his head. "There are ways around that, and it's not completely reliable."

"Let me try something," Blaise said, causing all of our heads to turn. "I have an idea." He walked behind the unconscious man took out his wand. "Enervate!" he said firmly.

The eyelids fluttered, and his eyes slowly started to open. It took him a few minutes to realize where he was and what had transpired. Blaise walked around from behind the man and took a seat across from him. Blaise examined his own fingernails while waiting for the man's eyes to clear.

"Hi," Blaise said as if addressing an old friend. "By now you've probably figured out what's happened."

"You'll get nothing from me," the man spat out.

"Oh, I believe you," Blaise quipped. "Really, I do. However, those people over there," he pointed across the room to where Potter, Weasley, and I were standing, "are not so inclined to do so." Blaise leaned back in his chair and sighed as if all of this was terribly tedious. "You see, my friend, you have the terrible misfortune of having kidnapped their children. Now while I really could not care less, they seem to have grown fond of their offspring."

"It won't do you any good," the man said, his voice starting to crack. "I'm not talking!"

"Good man!" Blaise said excitedly. "Stick to your guns. Don't let little things like pain and torture stop you."

"Whaddya mean torture? You ain't gonna torture me," he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "It's against the law."

"You know, I thought the same thing. Then Harry there, oh you did know you were party to kidnapping Harry Potter's son, didn't you?" Blaise said, letting the shock of the realization sink in. "Well, Harry there told me about…" He turned to Potter and asked, "What was it you called it, Harry?"

"Special Dispensation," Potter answered, his voice cold and flat.

"That's it," Blaise said happily, snapping his fingers. "Special Dispensation, in case you're wondering, means that the Unforgivable Curses can be used with immunity during this investigation."

The man seemed to regain some of his composure. "I'm not afraid of any Auror. Their curses would not be near strong enough."

"You know, you're probably right," Blaise said. "But see that other guy with Potter? The one with blond hair who's looking at you with death in his eyes? That's Draco Malfoy."

The man's eyes flashed with momentary fear at my last name.

"Your dumb luck, you just happened to have kidnapped his son, too. I don't think you will need to worry about a Malfoy's curses being strong enough." Blaise stood up and smoothed his shirt. "Well, I guess it's time to find out what you know. Draco, I think you can start now."

I slowly walked to where the man was seated, purposely coming from behind him. I stopped about a foot from his face. "Do you see this?" I asked holding up Scorpius' wand. "It belongs to my son." The man's eyes darted back and forth wildly searching for a way out. "I think it's quite poetic that his wand is going to get me the information I need." I pointed the wand at his chest and gathered my will. The man had started to sweat. "CRUC…" I started to say.

"STOP!" the man cried out. "I'll tell you what I know."

"Smart decision," I heard Blaise say from behind me.

"First of all," the man started. "I didn't know there was going to be any kidnappings. I was told to get some papers and deliver them."

"Where were you supposed to take the papers?" I asked.

"They didn't say exactly where. They said there was going to be an illegal portkey set up. They were going to send the location when we had done what we were told."

"How many of you are there?" Weasley, who had been listening, asked.

"We have about a hundred and fifty witches and wizards and about ten times that number of Muggles and Squibs. When I left on the mission everyone else was gathering to go someplace in Austria, I don't know exactly where."

"That's okay," I said, "I think we do. Tell me about your leader."

"What can I say? She is beautiful, strong, and decisive, yet at times she seems so lost. Almost like a little girl. She preaches on the evils of magic, yet she is the most powerful witch I have ever seen. She can do things I have never seen before. She has promised a better life for all, a life free of magic." I could tell the man had bought into whatever that woman was selling.

"You're a wizard. Why are you fighting for the destruction of magic?"

The man's eyes glossed over. "Have you ever heard of 'Pixie Dust?'" the man asked. We had all heard of it. Pixie Dust was a very powerful spelled narcotic. In addition to giving the user a euphoric high its users sometimes lost control of their magic. "My daughter was six years old. She was supposed to be with her mum. I was weak and gave into temptation." He paused, as tears flowed freely down his face. "When I came down and realized what had happened it was too late. My magic," he spit the word out like it burned his tongue, "had killed her. So yeah, I think we would all be better off in a world without magic. But I never agreed to kidnapping or murder. I just became stuck, ya know?"

I looked at him for a few minutes remembering another lost soul who felt he was stuck. "Yeah, I know. You know they left you here to take the fall right? That's why they never gave you the exact location."

"The thought did occur to me. But what else could I do? By that time I was in too deep. The whole thing spiraled out of control."

I stood up and smirked. "Those things will do that." I started to walk away. "One more thing, what is this woman's name?"

"She goes by the name Ariana," the man said while being helped to his feet by Potter and Weasley. "She says she was named after her grandmother."

The crowd was brought quiet by the sound of a glass shattering in Aberforth's hand. He looked down at his cut hand, not really noticing the blood. "It can't be," he muttered "it just can't."


	18. Chapter 18

**Malfoy Files Chapter 18**

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with this. Sorry this chapter is so short but it is a set-up to the battle coming next. My writing has been influenced by a lot of things. If anyone can tell me what TV show inspired some of this I will give them a shout out later.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize from the HP books. It's all JKR. **

We all followed a dumbstruck Aberforth into his back room. We found him sitting in a chair facing a large portrait of a young girl. Aberforth had an open bottle of whiskey in front of him, and it looked like he had downed half of it with one swallow.

"We really had no choice, you see?" Aberforth said as if he was talking to the portrait. "My mum had her hands full with her," he said, nodding to the painting. "And Albus and I were in school; with dad gone there was just no way could we have kept the baby."

Ginny Potter, who had followed us all into the back room, moved forward and sat next to him. "Ab," she said, taking his hand. "Tell us what happened."

"We were at school, Albus and me, and she got away from mum. She was only thirteen, but she was curious and the Muggle boy was very handsome." Aberforth was crying now as he took another drink. "By the time we found out what happened the healers said it was too late to do anything but let nature take is course. She was too unstable you see? Mum said she found a home for the baby and we tried to forget." Aberforth swallowed had and looked, again, at the painting. "I think Albus knew, I'm not certain, but I think he knew. Unstable magic can do strange things to blood. I think it might have passed Ariana's sickness on to her children and grandchildren."

"So this person who has my son might be…" I started, trying to get my head around this development.

"Related to my sister," Aberforth finished for me.

"Why would she be doing all this?" Weasley asked.

"Think about it," Blaise answered. "How angry would you be if you found out that the cause of all your problems could be traced back to unstable magic? Wouldn't you be bitter?"

Weasley nodded. "I suppose so."

"Ab," I started. "We have to find her. If she really is related to you, we can use that box and same spell to find her, if you let us."

Aberforth looked and me with watery eyes. "You will try and not hurt her, won't you? If it is her, it's not her fault."

"Ab, we'll do what we can," answered Potter.

Aberforth stood up and drained the last of the whiskey from the bottle and looked at the portrait as it smiled at him. "She really was quite pretty, ya know?" he said, walking out of the back room.

-ooo-

Armed with the information we got from Aberforth, using the box we were able to track down the general location of the woman's forces. Aberforth was not able to give us the exact location, as we didn't want him to alert her as I had done with Scorpius. It took Potter about fifteen minutes to set up a Portkey. We determined it would be better if we used a smaller team rather than bringing the full force of the Ministry to bear, as we wanted to avoid direct conflict and bloodshed as much as possible. The team consisted of me, Harry and Ginny Potter, and Ron and Hermione Weasley. George, Percy, and Bill Weasley rounded out the group. Someone had contacted Charlie Weasley and had been told he was going to bring 'air support' and meet us at the arranged rendezvous point.

"So, not counting Charlie and his friends," Potter was talking while looking at a map, "we will have eight wands against almost two hundred crazies and fanatics."

"Nine," a voice from behind me called out as Blaise walked around to the front of the table.

"I didn't want to speak for you," I said, pulling him into a hug.

"Make that ten," Phillips said, coming down the stairs. "Gertie would never forgive me if I let you get yourself killed."

"Okay then," Potter said. "That makes ten wands against them. Not much firepower."

"With our plan if we get in an all out fight things will have gone pear-shaped and an extra thirty wands won't help us," Weasley said, picking up the map.

"Okay, Ron, when we hit the field you're in charge," Potter said, standing up. "You're the best with tactics. We all need to follow his lead and listen. If we're lucky we will be in and out with the kids before they know we were there."

"And if we aren't lucky?" asked Percy.

"Then we fight and try not to get killed. Oh, and another thing," Potter continued. "Keep to the spells you know and are sure will work. Just cause you're allowed to use Unforgivables doesn't mean you'll be able to. In fact, I'll bet with a few exceptions," Potter's eyes flicked to Blaise and me, "none of you will be able to use them. Ginny, bring your broom. We will be leaving in about ten minutes," Potter said. "Everyone may want to say their goodbyes."

I saw Phillips head back upstairs where I knew Gertie was watching over Corinae. I walked in to the main room and found Tori. "We're leaving in a few minutes," I said as I approached the table where she was sitting.

"I heard," she said not looking up, "about before."

"We were both worried about Scorpius, and it was emotional. We don't have to make anything out of it," I said.

She looked up at me and smiled. "But what if I want to make something of it? I want us to try. Really try."

"You know what?" I asked. "Me too."

"Good," Tori said taking my hand. "We'll talk about it later when you come back." I nodded and started to stand up but she didn't let go. "You will come back," she said forcefully.

I nodded and squeezed her hand before letting go.

"Well, we should all head outside; that's where I have set up the Portkey," Potter said.

Aberforth and Arthur and Molly Weasley saw us out the door. They had wanted to come along, but Potter bluntly told them they were too old and we couldn't carry them. It was cold and I could tell it hurt him to say it, but it was necessary. We all stood in the street in front of the Hog's Head around an old Muggle bicycle tire.

"We should land about one hundred yards from the scout post that Ab saw. We can work it from there," Weasley said.

"Any last minute advice?" Phillips asked.

"Yeah, try not to die," Weasley said.

"Not exactly the St. Crispin's Day speech, was it?" Phillips remarked to Blaise and me as we gathering around the tire.

"We few, we happy few…" Blaise started.

"We band of buggered," I finished as I was pulled into the blackness by the Portkey.


	19. Chapter 19

**Malfoy Files Chapter 19**

**A/N: We are coming close to the end of our story. I hope you have found it interesting. I have several other Malfoy Files stories planned so trust me, this is ****not the last you will be hearing of his cases.**

We appeared on a sloping hill about one hundred and fifty meters from a small stone and wooden shack. The shack looked as though it might have been used by tradesmen of some sort. There was a soft yellow light coming from beneath the door and through the cracks in the boarded windows.

"Malfoy, you and Zabini check the hut and do it quietly," Weasley barked out in a hushed whisper.

Blaise and I crept away from the others while Weasley was still giving others orders. I signaled to Blaise that I would take the front and he should go around to the back. He nodded his response. I waited just outside the front door for a count of ten and hoped that Blaise would follow the signal. I placed my wand at the base of the door and whispered, "Bombarda."

The door burst open showering the three occupants of the room with splinters. I tucked my shoulder under and rolled into the room firing a stunner as I did. It was greeted by an "Ooof" and the sound of a body hitting the floor. A jet of red light blasted the door frame where I had been standing, causing an acrid smoke to fill the room. I came to a crouch and shouted "Incarcerous!", causing the second man to topple over, his feet and arms pinned by ropes. The third man turned to flee and was hit in the face with a stunner cast by Blaise who had entered through the back door. I tied the remaining two people up as well and stunned them all another time for good measure.

"That's not good enough, man," Blaise said coolly. "They'll eventually get out and blow it."

I knew what Blaise was suggesting, and I balked. "We can leave them here. They won't wake up for a while."

"You wanna stake your son's life on that?"

"I can't just kill three people in cold blood," I protested.

"I can," Blaise said. Before I could protest further, Blaise lowered his wand and calmly said, "Avada Kedavra," three times in quick succession. Stunned, I followed Blaise back to the point where we were to meet the others.

"The people in the shed?" Weasley asked as were entered the makeshift campsite. 

"Taken care of," Blaise answered and moved to the other side of the clearing.

I felt something glide by me and heard and soft thump on the ground. Ginny Potter removed an invisibility cloak and tossed her broom aside. Weasley looked her expectedly.

"Most of them all held up in a small valley here," she said, pointing to a map Weasley had laid out. "In front of some caves. There are several smaller teams acting as lookouts; we should be able to get past them if we are quiet and careful."

"Can we get to the caves without them knowing?" I asked

She shook her head. "Doubtful."

Our meeting was interrupted by the silvery platypus floating into the middle of the base camp.

"That's Charlie's Patronus," Ginny said.

"Hans and I will be there in less than an hour," the platypus said while waddling in place. "We are bringing a couple of friends."

I didn't know what this meant, but it seemed to cause everyone else to smile.

"Okay, here's the deal," Weasley said, standing up from a crouch. "We will need to move hard and fast. Hopefully we will be on top of them before they know we are here." He looked at his wife. "Hermione, you're not gonna like this, but I need someone to man this base camp. Mum and Dad are likely to try and pop over here and besides that," he said, taking her hands. "I need you and Phillips to watch our backs, literally. You need to keep any of the outlying teams from getting behind us once the shit starts to happen." I could tell that she hated the idea of not being up front but she didn't argue.

"Ginny, give me the cloak and cast a disillusion on yourself. I need you in the air guiding us; keep in contact as best you can. We can't risk using a Patronus, everyone would see. The rest of you need to be disillusioned as well."

Ginny nodded and started to cast the spell. Harry interrupted her, pulling her aside and kissing her soundly. He placed his forehead against hers and whispered something. She nodded, stepped back, and cast the spell. I heard a rush of air and assumed she took off.

Those of us who could cast the spell cast it on ourselves and the others who could not cast it themselves. Weasley threw the cloak on and disappeared. He put his hand out so we could see it.

"Follow this," he whispered hoarsely. "I will signal you if you need to stop. Spread out so we don't go running into each other."

It was a surreal scene as we followed Weasley's floating hand as he gave us signals to move or hold. Several times we could hear him talking quietly. After thirty minutes of moving at a crawl we came to a ridge that sloped down into a valley. We could see people gathered about a large rock outcropping in front of a large cave mouth. A woman with flowing brown hair dressed in gold and purple robes climbed to the top of the largest boulder.

"Now is the time, my brothers and sisters," the woman amplified her voice and spoke. If it weren't for Scorpius being in danger, I might have followed her. She paced the rock, speaking about the evils and injustices caused by a world with magic. She had whipped the crowd into frenzy. "Bring forth the children," she called.

"That bitch," I heard Weasley curse, as two men moved from behind the rock dragging Scorpius, Albus, and who I could only assume was Rose, behind them. All three children were bound and gagged.

"It is through their blood, shall all of us be made pure," she screamed, her voice taking on a fanatical tone. The gathered crowd cheered, and the noise echoed off the hills. "All of the implements have been gathered," she said, jumping down from the rock and landing in front of Rose. She reached forward and tried to stroke Rose's hair. Rose turned away and tried to kick the woman. She dodged the kick, pulled back, and slapped Rose hard across the face.

It was then that all hell broke loose. As one, the entire group of Weasleys let loose an almost primal scream and charged down the hill, all pretense of stealth lost. Blaise, Phillips, and I quickly followed.

I pulled out my spare wand and was wielding one in each hand, casting every offensive spell I could think of. The first thirty or so wizards fell without really knowing what was going on. Several Muggles had firearms and were shooting at us. Most of the bullets were bouncing off of our shield and hitting more of their own people. I caught a glimpse of the woman as she was leading the children into the caves. I heard an explosion and saw Blaise lifted into the air and slammed back to the ground from the force of it. I made my way to him just as Phillips was rounding the side of the boulder. We both looked at Blaise, then at each other.

"Go," Phillips said. "I'll get him back to camp." He grabbed Blaise by his robes and disapparated.

I turned back toward the caves. I couldn't afford to worry about Blaise. I watched as Ginny Weasley flew in and out of the crowd of wizards dodging spells and gunfire, all the while taking people out with her own spells. The fact we had all been battle tested (albeit on opposite sides of the battle) was proving to be the deciding factor. We were better at working together and at identifying the greatest threats. In a matter of minutes we were advancing towards the mouth of the cave. The most powerful and fanatical followers had taken up positions around the cave.

"They're fighting with delaying tactics," I heard Weasley call out. "We need to get in the cave and get in there now!"

I ducked behind a boulder, narrowly missed by several spells in the process. I knew what Weasley was afraid of: that whatever Ariana had planned for the kids she was going to be doing it soon.

My blood chilled at the thought that after all of this we might still be too late.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: This takes place right after the happenings in chapter one. This is why there is a tense shift he is no longer telling the story in a past tense it is now in a present tense. There is only one chapter. I do want to thank all of you for sticking with me through this one year journey.**

**Chapter 20**

I am sitting on a rock watching Bill Weasley work on bringing down the wards surrounding the cave. I keep scanning the surrounding areas in hopes that someone will attack and take my mind off of what may be happening to my son. The other collected Weasleys are doing the tasks assigned to them.

"It will only be a few more minutes and I can only keep it open long enough for a few of you to get through," Bill says, sweat dripping from his flushed face.

"I'm going," I speak up, not giving them an option.

Ron looks at me and nods. "Okay. It will be me, Harry, and Malfoy. Bill, can you keep it open for all three of us?" Bill grunts with the effort of working though the wards and nods. Ron looks at the others. "You guys need to clean up out here and make sure no one else comes in that cave."

Bill looks up at the three of us and nods. We all take off at a sprint towards the wards, trusting Bill will be able to drop them. We enter the mouth of the cave, and my skin feels like it's on fire. All three of us drop to the ground, sweating and gasping. We've made it through and we're alive. We stop and collect our thoughts, our ears straining against the silence of the cave. I can hear a muffled voice coming from deeper in the cave. I look to Potter and Weasley and see that they have heard the sounds also. We make our way in the darkness, not daring to cast a spell. As we approach the light, I can make out voices better.

"Meddling," I hear a woman screech. "You're meddlesome." I hear a smack and a lower groan. "You magical folk thinking you know better…" I hear another groan; this one sounds like a female. "Thinking you ARE better." The woman's voice rises to a fanatical pitch.

"We don't, we're just kids," I hear my son say.

The woman laughs cruelly, and I hear a hand smack skin. "Sins of the father, boy. Sins of the father."

We move closer and I can see the woman clearly for the first time. If she wasn't as sad as a sack of wet kneazles and holding my son hostage, she might be attractive. She has long black hair and moves gracefully. There are several other men standing around her, watching her with rapt attention.

The scene is like one out of a horror story. In the center of the cave is a large cauldron with green and black vapors rising from the churning waters. She has Scorpius, Albus, and Rose suspended above the cauldron with their heads over the mouth. Ariana is wielding a long silver and ruby dagger that I recognize as the start of all this trouble.

"With the blood of you three, all magic will be extinguished. Then all that were made unequal and have lived in fear and contempt shall be raised up."

She moves to where Rose is suspended with her head bowed; she is unconscious. Ariana grabs her hair and pulls her head up and back, exposing her throat. I hear Weasley gasp and feel him start to move. I know we are going to have very little time and need to get it right the first time. We charge out from our hiding places and into the center of the room. The three men who are obviously wizards rush to us, but they are no match for us and are quickly dispatched.

After stunning the last guard I hear Scorpius scream, "NO!", and I feel the air full of magical energy. I turn in time to see a beam of blinding light leave my son's chest and slam into Ariana's surprised face. The dagger, which had made a two-inch long gash on one side of Rose's throat, falls out of Ariana's as she tumbles back on the raised rock in a mist of blood and bone. My son goes limp as the beam from his chest stops. Weasley is the first to his daughter. He rips the ropes from her arms and casts a quick healing spell on her throat. I rush to Scorpius and find him smoldering and unconscious but still breathing. Potter has cut his son down and revives him as best he can. Albus has a large lump on the side of his head where it is obvious he has been struck.

I lower Scorpius slowly to the ground, and his eyes flutter open. "Rose.." He starts to push up to stand.

"She's fine," I answer, looking over to see Weasley pick her up. "Thanks to you."

Scorpius' eyes cloud over with emotion. "I didn't want to, Dad. I was just so afraid, and I couldn't let Rose get hurt."

"It's okay," I say, pulling him into a hug. "You're both okay."

"I could feel her," Scorpius says, staring at Ariana's smoking husk and starting to cry. "I didn't want to," he says between sobs. "I didn't want to."

Looking at my son crying in pain, I do something that I wish someone had done for me. I hold him and let him cry.

-OOO-

The next few days are filled with check-ups, questions, and reports. Harry puts in place a permanent Auror station in Hogsmeade. Blaise is okay and is being nursed to health by Katie Bell, who has not left his side. Phillips and Gertrude have been together every time I have seen either of them. The kids have been undergoing therapy, which is a Muggle technique new to the Magical world. Harry says that if it had been around when he was the kids' age, life would have been a lot easier. Astoria has taken a great interest in the process and has been looking at the requirements for being a therapist.

Speaking of Astoria, we have been talking, really talking. It turns out we have more in common than I thought, and she really is a remarkable woman. As soon as we feel the kids have a handle on their recovery, Astoria and I are going to take a long trip, just the two of us.

Scorpius seems to be the worst off of the kids. He can't seem to wrap his head around the guilt he feels for the killing of Ariana. He asked me how I got used to killing people. I said I never did. The moment it stops worrying you is the exact moment it should.

Scorpius' recovery is slow-going, but having Rose and Albus there with him is helping. Weasley and I have been almost civil to each other. We still call each other Weasel and Ferret, but the venom is gone from the words. It's amazing how having to fight beside a man forms a bond.

The press got wind of the happenings, and after several front page stories Potter, Weasley, and I decided to let The Quibbler run the exclusive account. Any mention of Sanguimancy or the ritual was left out of the story, but there was still enough excitement to keep the readers satisfied. On the subject of The Quibbler, more importantly its owner, my mother gave an exclusive interview to Xenophilius Lovegood concerning the life of my father. They seem to have been keeping each other company quite often after that. I got the pleasure of telling my father's ghost. I think he is still screaming. Warms the heart really. What can I say? I'm a simple man with simple pleasures.

I have just opened my mail, and an owl lands beside me. It has an official-looking envelope with the Auror department seal on it. I open the letter and read it. The letter is from Harry Potter requesting my assistance on a case. I lean back in my char and look out the window at the shoppers in Diagon Alley. I don't know why, but I get a bad feeling about the letter from Potter.

I stand up and grab my jacket and spare wand. "Gertie, I am gonna go meet Potter," I say at the half-opened door.

"Shall I alert the press?" Gertie smirks.

"No, but if Phillips comes over try not to muss up cushions this time, okay?"

Gertie's response is not very lady-like as I walk out the side door to my office and head off to meet Potter.


End file.
